


Water Lily

by blackgrl71



Category: Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter - Laurell K. Hamilton, Legend of the Seeker
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-08-19
Updated: 2014-08-27
Packaged: 2017-10-22 20:26:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 35
Words: 60,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/242243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackgrl71/pseuds/blackgrl71
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zedd's Spell of The Undoing went awry, only instead morphing time and bending realities, it also bent an entirely new world - sending them to the future filled with Vampires, Weres, and Goddesses looking for a Champion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> *Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. Laurell K. Hamilton owns the Anitaverse and Legend of the Seeker belongs to Terry Goodkind and Disney.
> 
> *Once again I can't thank enough my fellow and most-awesome writers/beta readers: gypsydruid, bearblue1, and melanacious.
> 
> **Any and all mistakes are my own and as always 'holla' back and give a review -- my muse (and me) will thank you for it.

**_Prologue_ **

 

****

Cara landed heavily on her knees, gasping, sobbing pitiful gasps and cries, shoulders heaving violently, as she desperately tried to catch her breath. Nausea crawled up her throat, causing her to frantically swallow as the Mord-Sith magic and…  _something_  else turned her insides to liquid. Or at least felt like it. Whatever It was it was scorching hot, her bones felt like they were breaking and re-knitting all at once, her nails felt as if they were being pulled from their nail beds, her hands clawed into the ground, the dirt a soothing cooling contrast to the searing magic tearing up her insides. Cara could feel the sweat staining her leathers, her damp hair beating a stinging-wet tattoo around her face and neck.

Like a recent electrical storm that wreaked havoc, the air remained stained with the essence of powerful magic. The ground that Cara landed on looked as if something impacted hard enough that all living trees, leaves, and fallen debris splashed outwards in an almost perfect circular pattern, with a heaving Cara in the center.  Cara was about to find herself in an alternate reality, a new unfamiliar world, filled with unusual magic that Cara has already been gifted with. But this ‘gift’ has morphed into something unusual – even for this world, due to her Mord-Sith magic.

The last thing Cara remembered was the most agonizing, excruciating pain through an Agiel bespelled to capture all the pain and agony it has meted out to Cara’s victims, and once she’d lost consciousness, the next moment of clarity found her tied up against the rough bark of a tree. Zedd stood before her chanting the old language of the Old World, erecting dangerous, heavy magic. It swirled around her, suffocating her, before she lost consciousness yet again. But right before she fell into the welcoming darkness, her eyes unconsciously found Kahlan’s; falling into pools of worried, darkening blues, conveying an unnamed emotion because it was if those eyes knew that things might never be the same. In that one moment, Cara allowed herself to connect with the one person who’d managed to siphon complex emotions, emotions that Cara thought she’d expertly compartmentalized throughout their long journey together. Emotions Cara buried as deeply as possible because they were fruitless in the face of Kahlan’s devotion to Richard, to say nothing of what those emotions did to her identity as a Mord-Sith.

Nevertheless, Cara found herself yet again, at the mercy of powerful, unpredictable magic. Magic that was supposed to restore her to woman she was before the magically enhanced Agiel and Dahlia possessed her. The Spell of the Undoing… only it seemed to have gone awry. It would be a few hours before Cara realized just how much it’d all gone wrong. 


	2. Chapter 2

Cara woke with a gasp, but this time instead of finding herself on forested ground, she found herself somewhere… _else_. Clutching her chest, trying to inhale thick, humid air, she wildly looked around trying figure out where she was, where Richard, Kahlan, and Zedd were. But everything was green; thick foliage, unlike anything she’d ever seen. Large, sweeping leaves, attached to ridged tree trunks, some kind of foreign fruit hung heavy from these trees. The air was thick and moist, humid heat, causing sweat to instantly dot her brow, and her leathers started to feel as if she’d were immersed in one of the steaming Mord-Sith bathing pools. Feeling something slithery moving underneath she attempted to quickly stand only to realize her legs and arms lacked the coordination and strength to follow instructions.

However she managed to roll her body to the side as instinct borne after long years of torturous discipline and hard lessons, had her turning her head very slowly. Her eyes widened with just a tad bit of fear, but appreciation over the sheer size of the serpent whose head was as big as Zedd's fist. She started to reach down for her Agiels only to find they weren’t there. But as she was beginning to reach for her dagger, hoping it was still there, a pair of nut-brown legs appeared, along with some kind of long knife that swooped down, loping off the head of the huge serpent.

Cara trailed her eyes up the legs only to find even more people behind him. Short in stature, wearing only a loin-cloth made out of some type of leaves, jet black hair with bowl-like cuts, tattoos dispersed along their faces and bodies. They quickly surrounded Cara, the apparent leader spoke words completely foreign to anything Cara knew. Before she could find a way to make her weakened limbs respond to the latest threat, they grabbed her limbs and lifted her. Cara struggled against them as they quickly carried her through this foreign landscape.

Suddenly the landscape opened up and they came to an enclosure with manicured green grass, with an impressive step-like temple standing at the far end, more people stood, lined on either side of the green lawn, hands reverently touching Cara’s legs, arms, and bright hair.  The men carried her, almost as if marching in ceremony, until they came before a raised platform that stood at the bottom of the temple. Gently they lowered Cara’s feet to the ground, making sure to provide support in case she couldn’t stand. Cara took in her surroundings, desperately trying to quell the rising fear inside of her.

Several women stood on the raised platform; one of them a little taller, with jet-black, hair hanging thick and straight, along her shoulders and back. Another had beautifully gleaming skin the color of polished ebony. Yet another woman was completely bald, but with an intricate tattoo that swept up from one-side of her neck, up past her cheek, and along the side of her head.  Another had impressively interwoven hair made up of dreds the colors of Autumn. The next one, who skin was the color of caramel, beautiful hazel eyes, yet her short, curly hair was the color of moonbeams. And the last woman was tall and lithe, skin the color of walnut, with long, thick, curly, darkish-red hair. But it was their eyes that added to their otherworldliness; from jade green or completely onyx, to amber-wolf, pinning Cara with their gazes.

_**We are the Sisters of the Yam; the Beginning, the Foundation of great civilizations and cultures, and the Beasts they worshipped.** _

They all wore various styles of white tunics, with unusual thick necklaces shaped like a flower, with various green-colored stones.  The tallest woman, with the long waterfall of gleaming, blue-black hair and unusual headdress of what looked like some kind of large cat’s head,  fur inky black, seemingly silky, and thick, interwove with jade, turquoise, and other unidentifiable colored stones. Her jade-green eyes, pinned Cara with their intensity. Cara felt caught, as if her gaze had some kind of hypnotic power, not allowing the blonde to move. Cara had seen many things, but seeing someone wear an animal head as a hat was one of the more unusual things she’d witnessed. However as unusual as it seemed, it also seemed… weirdly natural. As natural as fish in a pond, or a Mord-Sith with her Agiels, it seemed a…  _part_ of her. Currently the woman’s brilliant, jade-green eyes were intensely staring into Cara’s own sea-green ones, as if trying to discern Cara’s soul, drawing the blonde into her gaze. The woman remained motionless, as Cara found her bearings, able to stand on her own two feet. The men that “escorted” her were now kneeling, with their foreheads touching to the ground.

For a moment Cara broke her stare with the woman, allowing her attention to shift to the other women on the platform, before glancing around the suddenly silent glen, only to see that the rest of the audience/worshippers were also kneeling with their foreheads to the ground. Quickly she returned her attention to the jade-eyed woman, only to see that the intense stare was now infused with amusement.

_**Have no fear Cara Mason. You have been Chosen.** _

The woman’s lips hadn’t moved yet Cara knew with some certainty that the  _Voice_  came from the jade-eyed woman.

_**Yes, it is me. It is easier to communicate this way; our spoken word would be unrecognizable to you. We have been waiting a long time for someone worthy enough, someone who has stared into the abyss only to have fought their way back into the Light. Neither of those of pure malice or those of pure innocence can would be accepted by The Sisters. More importantly, you have been brought to a new world where your Mord-Sith magic does not exist. Not in the way in which it has been formed or evolved. Balance there must be - for something to given, something must be taken away.** _

_What?! What world? Where am I?! Where are Richard, Kahlan, and Zedd?_

_**All in good time my Champion. You have lost much during your Life Journey and your quest to aid your World’s Champions at the risk of both emotional and physical peril, has been duly noted. To overcome such powerful Dark magic and discover within yourself Empathy, Bravery…Love, has all the makings for a Great Protector. You ability to absorb, to ingest Other magic, makes you suitable for this Transference. It is for this reason you must submit to this New Beginning. You may have been Chosen, but you still must successfully undergo the Change.** _

Another voice, slightly deeper, and huskier sounded in her Cara’s head, and with some kind instinctual knowing, Cara knew it came from the delicately-featured, bald-headed, tattooed woman. She wore an intricate necklace that contained what appeared to be huge talons.

_**Cara Mason, you will be this World’s Protector, our Elemental Beast. Elemental Magic is powerful, feral, and is fluid.  As this Gift grows unto its own, as it combines, ingests the power of Mord-Sith magic, your innate Magic, your empathy, bravery, and even love, will determine if you will emerge whole, yet infinitely different. It will determine if you will survive.** _

A lighter voice, melodious, almost sweet resonated in her head, and again with the same kind of knowing Cara knew it was the woman with dark-red hair and orangey-eyes.

_**At first we wondered if only one will do. But after the Prophecy was revealed, we knew that we needed to find the one worthy enough to embody all of us. Know that your New Journey will not be alone, in this world, a Pack is needed.** _

_Another voice, this one smooth like warm honey, belonged to the woman with muted-colored dreds and eyes completely onyx, with no hint of iris._

_**We selected those who would serve you. But you will need to prove your Dominance – something I do not believe will be a challenge for you** _ **, the woman finished with some knowing amusement. _In this world the Pack and Its leader often means life and death. Not unlike the world from which you were born. But know there are significant differences, particularly on your Path to find Her._**

The jade-eyed woman spoke again, her blue-black hair lightly moving as it danced on some unseen wind.

_**She, will change centuries-old Power structure. You will make the difference on whether it will be for Better or for Worse. Concepts of good verses evil are old, constrained terms. There are few Beings that are purely Evil and few purely Good, like Elemental magic, these concepts are fluid. At least not on this plane. Only on the worlds-between-worlds do such Beings exist, hoping to influence those within this world, this is an age-old battle. But when the Balance is threatened, we had to intervene. You are the Agent of both Balance and Change, She will be the Catalyst.** _

_**The Catalyst will be someone you once knew in your world, but is very different in this new one. You would do well to remember that, to prepare as she is much more powerful and dangerous. Now, the time has come for you to make a decision; a new world, a new beginning awaits you. You must simply Accept.** _


	3. Chapter 3

Cara has had many occasions to accept that sometimes things were simply beyond her control. Mord-Sith induction, the Breaking, Lord Rahl, Richard Cypher, Zeddicus, the gods-awful quest to save the world, and of course, Kahlan Amnell. She also knew about destiny—she’d known that she would be a great Mord-Sith, and she was before being betrayed by Trianna and Denna, and of course, Darken Rahl. She knew her travels with the  _band of do-gooders_  would force her to make a choice: the Mord-Sith way or the Cara Mason way. Fighting, protecting, and saving those do-gooders on more than one occasion, also forced her to realize something else, particularly those moments with Kahlan and the Night Wisps; she was no longer immune to sensations like… compassion, empathy (other than pain and suffering, usually caused by her), and even... (allowing a mental shudder of disgust), love.

This event, this moment brought with it yet another strong sense of destiny. In fact, it was the strongest one yet. And just as she knew that she had to protect Richard Rahl, and even more so Kahlan, she knew that she had to Accept whatever was about to come. Forces greater than Cara brought her to this place, to this moment. 

Her attention refocused as the jade-eyed priestess moved off the dais, walking closer to Cara until she came to a stop a couple feet from the Mord-Sith. Silent, she tilted her head, her piercing gaze making Cara uncomfortable, as if she were weighing Cara, accessing her character. Resisting the urge to squirm, she arched her brow in one of her trademark sardonic looks.

_**It will hurt. But methinks you may survive. Perhaps it is a bit like your…  Breaking, but worse. Do you Accept?** _

Cara mentally scoffed. Along with the Breaking from the Mord-Sith, was the additional… training by Darken Rahl as a “favorite,” validated her belief that she can take any pain. Immediately blanking out the more… potent emotional trauma, the blonde had a hard time believing that any pain and suffering from this _process_  would be as difficult. Locking eyes with the woman, giving a brief nod, Cara indicated her acquiescence.

The woman’s gaze turned amused, as if she were reading Cara’s mind. ** _And so it shall be. A word of wisdom, it will be your newfound sensations of love and compassion and bravery that may see you through. Do not underestimate the Change or you will not succeed and then our Choice has been for naught._**

As she finished speaking Cara suddenly found herself surrounded by a selected group of worshippers, who gesturedat her clothing as they held up some kind of ceremonial robe. Cara figured they wanted her to remove her leathers and wear the robe. Most people would feel discomfited at having to disrobe in front of a crowd of strangers, but Cara was Mord-Sith, her issues with nudity disappeared a long time ago. Nevertheless, it didn’t make this… occasion any less unusual. Especially when she considered the ozone of magic thickening in the air - it was thick, like if she stuck out her tongue she’d be able to taste it.

Two female worshippers helped her undue the laces in the back, transporting Cara back to all the moments when her Sisters or… Kahlan assisted in this task. She wondered if she’d ever see them again.  Unfathomably she’d grown to care for her band of do-gooders, regardless of how annoyingly innocent Richard continued to be, regardless of knowing that Kahlan will no doubt marry Richard, even growing exasperatingly fond of Zedd's penchant for stuffing his face. But it appeared her life was taking her another direction, one without Kahlan, Richard, or even Zedd: who knew that two worlds would need Cara’s help to save it?

 

****                    

 

The jade-eyed woman, whom she learned was named Emina, had been right. Panting, hoping she wouldn’t vomit again, she felt the sensation of wet sticky strands of hair thick with sweat and blood, and other fluids, slide uncomfortably against her skin. Cara had finally stopped screaming. Her voice had grown hoarse, becoming thick with fluid, and Cara wondered if one of the Bites had nicked a lung. Her body felt is if a pack of Gars stomped all over it and then poured some kind of acid in the wounds. Inside her bones were literally breaking, reknitting, and the re-breaking, before starting to process all over again.

She also knew that the sensation of acid was some kind of magic that Cara was completely unaware of. She knew it was magic because she could  _smell_ it. The worshippers and Were-Beasts had left her lying on a bed of thick flowers, that were now crushed and cloying, as she shifted and undulated in agony over them. Even her hair follicles felt painful, like if the pores had become heavy with water, everything was sensitized, her skin felt hot enough to cook an egg on it.

When Emina had suddenly and smoothly Shifted into a huge beast resembling a large, bipedaled, black hunting cat, the Jaguar she learned, it took everything inside Cara to not turn and run. She stood absolutely still, knowing that even if she gave into her  _flight_  response, that it would only cause the Were-Jaguar to give chase. The Were slowly circled Cara, as the _Others_  also Shifted and their visages were as terrifyingly beautiful as Emina’s, some even bigger than the Were-Jaguar’s seven-foot, hulking frame.

One resembled some kind of Were-Bird, but nothing gentle or weak, it had  _predator_ written in every line of Its body. It reminded Cara of some of the stories she used to hear about from the Old World; of flying beasts, with wing-span of up to several feet, a sharp beak lined with sharp teeth guaranteed to shred and tear. But that was if Its victim lived past the terrifying talons that looked as if they could crush a full-grown man. The red-headed woman Shifted into a huge, dark-red-with-black-stripes Beast, another hunting cat, with a mane the colors of fire, roared into the sky like some kind of avenging Great Cat. The next woman, grew close to seven feet, fur spilling along her entire body, thick and silver with hints of black, her face elongated into a fearsome snout, along with large, pointed ears, until it resembled one of the great Direwolves roaming around D'Hara.

Finally, was the huge, biggest of the group, surprisingly fleet-footed white Bear, with completely onyx-colored eyes staring with startlingly human intelligence, yet with a kind of serenity, at Cara. But there was the sense that at any moment the great beast could explode quickly and decisively into violence, and its victim wouldn’t know it until it was too late. Altogether this… menagerie of fierce looking beasts, made Cara decidedly nervous, and if she were honest with herself - which may be the only thing keeping her sane at the moment, the Beings actually terrified the blonde. Because if what Emina suggested was part of the Change was true, then Cara would soon be feeling some powerful jaws wrapped around parts of her limbs,  and what worried Cara even more was the predator part. Predators attack until its victim submits or dies, what’s to keep these beasts from  _not_ tearing her apart or outrightkilling her.

Once again, as if Emina could read her thoughts, she simply flicked her ears back to a less... intimidating posture (or so she thought), and nodded. Apparently that was Cara’s clue to  _take a leap of faith_. Considering the do-gooders she’d been traveling with for the past few moons, Cara figured she was becoming an expert at this philosophy. As a vision of sapphire-blue eyes and dark hair ran through her mind as she watched Emina begin her approach, her mouth opening showing off her impressive set of sharp teeth. Cara certainly hoped that all the “faith-leaping” she undertaken lately would see her through this, because she suspected she’ll need some… perspective soon.


	4. Chapter 4

Kahlan Amnell was a very unique individual. During her human life, her mum was a powerful sorceress; connected to the one Being that gave them protection necessary to avoid exposure as different religions and fanaticism grew. Back then, women were often the first to be targeted as mobs of crazed people looking to spread fear, bloodletting, and suffering, to "atone" for whatever human crisis or despair that couldn’t be solved by either war or religion. From the Black Plague to the Inquisition, witch-hunts began in earnest; killing millions of women—some actual mages, throughout the centuries. Sweeping across the land like a virus, women were burned at the stake, drowned, racked, among the more popular methods, to the delight of the fanatic and under-educated masses. Kahlan could have easily fallen under this blood-thirsty stain in human history, but she’d been locked away; either, curled around her Marmee as she occasionally fed Kahlan her blood or to do a little bloodletting of her own, or as part of Marmee’s rotation of her most loyal Brood. Marmee’s chamber was a secret location known only to the _Brood_. The room was pitch black, dominated by a huge four-poster bed with Kahlan’s bigger frame often wrapped up tight against a much smaller, delicate frame. The air always heavy with the scent of jasmine and rainstorms.

None of the Brood knew why Marmee Noir had taken such a shine to Kahlan. But Kahlan began to have a clue once she’d been released from her centuries Sleep to take up Guard. Under her own sound and now ancient mind, it was if she’d been released from a heavy, centuries-long stupor, barring her ability to form her own thoughts, thoughts that weren’t formed under Marmee’s Power. Through the Great Link to all preternatural Beings, what little sense of compassion and protectiveness Mother was able to feel towards Kahlan was actually fairly minimal, when compared to the possessiveness bestowed on Marmee Noir’s most favorite Childe. Marmee Noir lost the ability to intimately connect long ago, so keeping Kahlan close was more of a shrewd, self-preserving mechanism –and who knew if she’d  _ever_  had that ability to experience human emotions.

And so the centuries went on, the one advantage – aside from keeping safe from religion, famine, and war, Kahlan had access to books and journals. New, original copies would appear like magic. Given that there was little else to do, Kahlan began to voraciously read, and if she could, apply some of the things she’d learned. Everything from Sun Tzu, or Napoleon, Nietzke, to the Karma Sutra (admittedly a favorite), the great collection of folk tales and poems One Thousand and One Nights, Jane Austen, even the Bible or Koran, scrolls from ancient Libraries like Alexandria, were soaked up like a sponge. Then there were the instructional books: mechanics, great engineering feats, medicine, scientific advances, and most importantly, magic -- all would serve her well in the future.

Kahlan was also brought various news items from all over in exotic languages, ancient languages, or modern languages, and found herself learning even more. Unlike Marmee Noir, Kahlan felt it absolutely essential to ingest knowledge of the world around you. Taking one’s Power for granted will leave one wholly unprepared for the modern dangers that abound – even for Mother. The poison gas and utter destruction of World War I, was followed up by atomic bombs of World War II, left Kahlan feeling a cold fear unlike anything she’d ever experienced. Humans could be quite creative and industrious when creating war and destruction as they were during peaceful times, thought Kahlan. But that is the nature of the beast and humans have never been able to overcome that particular DNA trait. Why humans would develop instruments of destruction they cannot recover from was beyond her.

Eventually, she had been allowed to create her own minions; human servants and Weres, a couple who functioned as her  _ **Pomme de Sang**_  or Apple of Blood - a Vampire’s chosen blood donor. Her minions were also instructed to set up a greenhouse for herbs, a laboratory, and a huge cavernous room for the more physical aspects of her duties as both a member of the Brood and as a scholar. When she wasn’t reading she was practicing, learning various fighting styles that evolved throughout the centuries. She loved the physicality of it, loved allowing the dangerous animal inside her out to ‘play,' sating her in a way that only sating her Blood Lust did. On occasion Markus, a Wererat, would bring her a badly-behaving Vampire or Wereanimal; the kill left her feeling invigorated, pulsating with…  _life_. Once said Vampire or Were lay quivering in bits and pieces on the floor, many learned to not test Marmee’s Warrior Mage of the  _First Brood_.

Unlike ninety-nine percent of the Vampire species, Marmee’s  _First Brood_ , were both Vampire AND Beast. Impossible when one considers that such a merging of the bloodlines would inevitably destroy the creature even before it began, because like in life, the Beast and Vampire DNA cells cancelled each other out, destroying a Being from within. When Kahlan first Shifted, she eventually became aware that her Beast was now extinct—outside of the First Brood, there were no others, and attempts to create more, were always unsuccessful. The Childe became either a Vampire or a Beast, never both. It was also during this time that Kahlan learned of the magic that had lied dormant in her genes for centuries. 

Perhaps it was the powerful Sorceress, Morgana she had Turned sometime in the first century AC, that had awakened her magic, maybe it was the combination of Marmee’s blood, recent from the veins of the great Merlin, or maybe it was her supping on an entire Coven in the 1200s. Giving a mental shrug, Kahlan only knew that in a culture of fear and power, this magic made her unique, gave her leverage, and eventually a target, particularly from the Vampire Council. Coupled with her innate Vampire Powers -- almost all Master Vampires developed a version of the Power from the  ** _Soudre de Sang_** , the Source of a Vampire Line. All members of the Vampire Council were Soudre de Sang, but on the rare occasion a powerful Master Vampire from within their lines could evolve into a Soudre de Sang themselves. But this was very rare and often put them at odds with an insecure Vampire Council. 

When Vampires were truly misbehaving then a selected few of her fellow Brood members served another purpose: the  ** _Harlequin_**. The Vampire boogeyman, with names like: Punchinello, Pantalone, Comedienne, or Columbina. Gifted with terrifying powers, from the major Vampires lines, whose only loyalty was to Marmee Noir and neutrality. When the Council was unable to carry out their duties, then it was the Harlequin who stepped in. Even if it was a Council member themselves, the Harlequin had no problem carrying out their duty. They mystery surrounding  _who_  and  _what_ they were, dressed in the manner of a Venetian Masked Ball, added to their terrifying mystery, and to speak of them would also grant you severe punishment if not, certain death.

Kahlan wondered if Mother would assign her to the Harlequin sometime in the future, but Kahlan didn’t want that. She wanted… freedom. To explore, to perhaps create a Line of her own, to truly test her skills and Power against others, particularly against that nasty bitch, Moroven, her real name was Nemhain. The only Being she hated more was Padma, Master of the Beasts, whose penchant for setting his intolerable son, Fernando on unsuspecting victims for his twisted sexual games, put him in Kahlan's sights to be dealt with at some point. One of the Council's leaders, Belle Morte was another story. The Vampire seemed to create some truly powerful Master Vampires- ones that began their own Lines. An ability she knew made Mother uncomfortable. 

As for Belle, they’d been lovers on occasion, but Belle was unaware that when she used her succubus abilities on Kahlan, it also opened her mind, her desires, and her fears to Kahlan, allowing her to ferret information, useful, dangerous information from Belle Morte’s mind. Thoughts about ruling The Council… dangerous thoughts that suggested she may be a threat to Mother. Why she hadn’t alerted Mother was curious. It was hard to truly  _ **feel**_ human emotions like guilt or empathy… or even love, because Vampires were predators, to pretend otherwise would be dangerous. Or at least that was what Mother often counseled her through the years, as she whispered into Kahlan’s mind, or as they shared a Dreamwalk on the metaphysical plane.

However what Kahlan really wanted to do, other than be released from guarding Marmee’s resting place, was to spend time within a powerful Coven. Perhaps a Coven of her ancestors, the one connected to the powerful Merlin. There was reportedly one such Coven in England’s New Colony, America. Apparently, Europe became gripped by yet another culling of Witches. Hundreds of thousands of Witches and so-called Witches perished during this time. This Coven, seeing the signs, escaped aboard a vessel headed towards this new land, and have been thriving there ever since.

What Kahlan didn’t realize was that her magic was tied to human emotions, particularly love. As a Guardian to Marmee Noir she had little occasion to use her magic. But use it on occasion she must or her more feral Vampire-Were side became meaner, more savage, almost uncontrollable. Kahlan didn’t like it, she liked being in control at all times, it was why she gave the orders to round up all the powerful Necromancers and have them killed. Necromancers communed and controlled the Dead, Vampires were considered Undead Beings. She remembered that thug Antonio, a Master Vampire who fed on fear, part of Moroven’s line. He’d somehow got himself appointed to the Catholic Church during the Inquisition. Mostly so he could partake in his favorite pastime of violating women and girls, before killing them. He claimed that when he came across a real Witch or Necromancer, their blood was some of the finest he’d ever tasted.

Kahlan had wanted to kill him herself, but thought that for someone who fed on fear, the Harlequin could return the favor in large doses, before killing him… slowly and painfully. She could still hear Mother chuckling in amusement at Kahlan’s thoughts of wicked vengeance.

Suddenly she was startled from her musings as the Great Mother requested her presence. 


	5. Chapter 5

She couldn’t believe it! The feeling of exhilaration and… thrill was palatable. She was now sitting in a sleek car, heading towards the Vampire Council. Apparently Marmee Noir had become discomfited by the happenings above ground and wanted to send her most trusted and powerful Master Vampire to sort things out. Reading the file she had prepared for her by Giancarlo, one of her minions, she too became slightly concerned. The Vampire Council now had an opening: the Earthmover had been killed, by a human no less. A Necromancer. A Necromancer who had formed a Triumvirate with the Master of the City, Jean-Claude, and the Ulfric of a powerful local Werewolf Pack. The Vampire was from Belle’s Line – _she really did make the most interesting Vampires_ , she mused.

Her exchanges with the Earthmover had been slim, _Mr. Oliver had been a bit too… Neanderthal for her taste_ , Kahlan thought with sarcastic amusement. Kahlan didn’t think her time with the Council would prove useful. Instead her desire to find the Coven from her mum’s line was paramount, particularly if she wanted to be ready for this… Necromancer. Yet that wouldn’t prevent Kahlan from stopping in for a visit. Putting certain… individuals on notice, especially those who were considering certain traitorous… activities, activities that may be harmful to their health.

Dennee, another Master Vampire, Blood-Oathed to Kahlan, sat across from her. “So, how are things Dennee?”

Rolling her eyes, the blonde grumbled, “With the Council, things can never be too boring.”

Dennee wouldn’t admit it, but she was glad her Mistress had finally been released from duty. Dennee was strong, but nothing like her Mistress; things needed straightening out and she had the utmost confidence that Kahlan had the ability to do just that. Running her gaze over her, Dennee wondered if she had any relation to Jean-Claude, with her thick blue-black hair, eyes like gleaming sapphires, and creamy-pale skin. The light dusting of freckles saved her from being impossibly, gorgeously perfect. Nevertheless, the Vampire Council would no doubt, be shaken up by her Mistress’ visit.

She’d heard that Padma suddenly found himself “called away” to India. No doubt, wanting to avoid Kahlan, whom he knew wanted to gut him on sight. Instead he left behind his nasty bit of off-spring, Fernando, in his stead. Suddenly things started to look up. Dennee couldn’t wait to put that odious creature in his place, hopefully permanently. Personally, she’d love to help “hold him down.”

Kahlan voraciously watched the sights, listened to the sounds as they drove down one of Paris’ huge main Rues or avenues. All the magnificent and ancient landmarks - both domestic and stolen, that made up some of Paris’ most famous tree-lined streets, gave Kahlan a thrill because she’d been reading the stories about these beautiful works of art for centuries.

After dealing with the Council, she’d planned to spend several days experiencing Paris. She knew she’d have to alert the local Master of the City. But once she ‘convinced’ him, Dante a Master Vamp from the Dragon’s Line, of Kahlan’s short stay, it should be no problem. Unless of course, Kahlan _needed_ to make it one. In the meantime, she needed to find her Coven.

“Dennee, I need you to arrange a few things for me. “

****

“Belle, Belle, Belle, I like what you’ve done with the place.” Kahlan languidly walked into what appeared to be some kind of… venting on Belle’s part.

The walls were painted with blood and bits, various Vampires, Weres, and dead or close-to-dead humans lining the room. The various signs of life or things clinging to life abounded: a gurgle here, a cough there, followed by groans of pain.

The Vampire in question stood in the middle of the gruesome scene. Her outdated, yet no doubt expensive dress splattered with blood and probably other fluids. Her arms hung at her sides, with her dagger-like nails dripping blood, her thick chocolate curls, had fallen out of their fashionable bun.  Her gorgeous dark-honey colored eyes had widened in surprise and fear before that last look was immediately wiped away. It took every effort to not snarl in disgust at Belle’s penchant for throwing a tantrum.

“Kahaln, ma chérie! How—how, have you ‘ome  to join us?” If Belle had a pulse, she was certain it’d be thundering right now, as she watched the tall Master Vampire step delicately over a body to finally seat herself at an unsoiled chair. Assisted by only two minions; her Second, Dennee, and the hulking, dark male Were-Wolf, Giancarlo. This was no doubt, a show of strength on Kahlan’s part: if a problem arose, Kahlan had enough of in-house power to take of the situation.

Crossing her legs, taking her sweet time to respond, Kahlan wondered where Belle’s twisted Second, Musette, was hiding. “Well it appears as though I have been released. The **_why_** is not your concern. Yet.”

Quelling the urge to show any weakness or concern, Belle Morte called for Musette and her other Lieutenants. It wouldn’t do to be… _unarmed_ in front of a Master Vampire of Kahlan’s stature. What made Marmee’s watchdog even more… worrisome was that no one really knew what her Powers were or how Powerful Kahlan Amnell really was. She only knew that the one attempt to control Kahlan during a sexual encounter during a visit to Marmee’s Rest (it wasn’t her real Resting Place, since only her Guardians had that knowledge), Belle let loose the _Ardeur_ on Kahlan.

It worked, or she thought it had until she realized that the _Ardeur_ had been increasing. Like a feedback loop, Kahlan had been soaking up the _Ardeur_ and then turning it back on her even stronger. It terrified Belle for a moment before she’d been swept away by lust that had no bounds.

“For now I need you to convene the Council and surely you have something left over for me to sup on?”

“Of course!” Just then Musette walked in.

Standing barely five foot, with long fat blonde curls, make-up artfully applied to give her an innocent, almost child-like look. But this Vampire was one of the more sadistic Beings Kahlan had ever met. She tended to “play with her food,” and was Belle’s torturer or _Borreau_ – if you needed something nasty done, Musette was the person to do it… joyfully. This, along with her appearance, presented a sort of nightmarish façade.

“Bon Soir, Madamoiselle Kahlan. Welcome to our ‘ome.” She smiled as she swept her arm out, indicating the bodies and blood. “Please excuze the mess. We are… redecorating.” She followed this statement with a tinkling laugh.

Kahlan couldn’t help but chuckle as she rolled her eyes. _Crazy bitch, only Musette would call painting the walls red with someone else’s blood –redecorating_ , Kahlan thought sneeringly, increasing her disgust. She couldn’t wait to escape this nest of vipers.


	6. Chapter 6

After the agonizing Change, a change Cara wasn’t certain she was going to survive, she’d awakened in another field. This time the grass had been shorn short, itching her skin, the night sky unfamiliar, the smells intense and even more unfamiliar, and the surroundings no longer clean and fecund, or thick with the local fauna. Groaning, her body protested her moving, at all. At that moment she realized that she wasn’t the only one groaning in pain. Blinking open bleary eyes, she saw four naked women, heaving, covered in sweat, blood, and grime. One woman was instantly recognizable and if she had either energy or… anything, she’d immediately be looking to send her back to the Keeper, where Cara distinctly remembered she and Kahlan sent her. 

Denna, hair no longer in the a thick Mord-Sith braid, but tangled and wild along her shoulders and face, her body rolling and undulating from whatever she appeared to be going through. _It looked painful_ , Cara thought with some satisfaction. And if she wasn’t bad enough, another honey-blonde head added to her anxiety—Nicci, also naked and appeared to be in some agony, if the whimpers and low, pain-filled cries were any indication. Cara could only hope that she recovered well before those two did.

One of the other women hoarsely called Cara’s name, drawing her attention to wide, pain-filled, ice-blue eyes staring at Cara in confusion. Tangled dark rust-colored hair, mixed with hints of dark brown, had fallen around her muscular shoulders and feminine face. If Cara had the presence of mind to focus on anything other than with whatever was wracking through her own body, she’d have allowed herself a moment to appreciate the very voluptuous curves, mixed with toned musculature. Berdine.

Another dark-haired woman, somewhat short and muscular, skin the color of almonds and caramel, lay writhing near Nicci, and if Cara could, she’d have moved her from that viper, lest she get stung; Raina, Berdine’s lover.

Last, another blonde laid the closest to Cara, this one tall, less voluptuous than Denna, but a great deal more palatable. Rikka, an honorable and skilled Mord-Sith, one Cara hadn’t had the pleasure to work with nearly as much as she’d like. It appeared as though that was about to change.

But first, if Cara wanted to keep her life and her wits about her, it was imperative that she find a way to push through her own internal agony before the others did. It felt as if her whole body; cells, bone structure, hair follicles, even her blood was being pulled apart, torn from the inside by… claws(?), changing. The Sisters had warned her but how could one really prepare. The pain of the initial Transformation was unlike anything Cara had ever experienced. The distant second was when Darken Rahl, through the betrayal of Dahlia, had captured Cara and plunged the cursed Agiel upon her. Her Breaking to become a Mord-Sith didn’t even register compared to this Transformation.

It wasn’t enough that she was set upon by all of the Sisters in their partially Shifted, frightening forms, regardless of the fight she put up, each female settled on a body-part of the blonde Mord-Sith and bit. **Hard.**   Hard enough, until her blood began weeping, hard enough that it scraped bone, hard enough until something entered into her bloodstream. When they finally released her from their powerful grips, it looked as if she’d been set upon by wild animals.

Trying to quell yet another urge to vomit, as her stomach roiled and her bones seemed to shift and expand, she concentrated on deep, even breathes. She closed her eyes, reaching deep within herself and was startled. It was if she could… **_see_** another version of herself, naked, eyes no longer her natural sea-green color, but dark with hints of gold, and rounder. Her skin began to dark, sweeping up her legs and torso, covering her arms, but the skin was no longer skin, it began to look patterned… like a bird. Her nose grew dark and pointy, a very sharp point, almost like a beak. Her nails and feet grew long and dangerous, dangerous enough to appear as if they could crush and shred. When Cara 2.0 began to lift her arms, it looked as if huge wings dropped down in between her triceps and the sides of her torso.

However, other Caras began to appear, one right after another, fully Shifted. After the Golden Eagle, was Cara 3.0, with brilliant jade-colored eyes, similar to Emina’s. This one Shifted into a huge, leonine cat, a Jaguar, lush black fur covered the entire expanse of this Cara’s body, along with a tail. Her head grew larger, her mouth and chin grew out and rounder, chin almost becoming pointier. Her eyes became slitted and almond-shaped. Her musculature denser, you could almost see the Power pulsating underneath her skin.

But that Power seemed to pale in comparison to Cara 4.0 - like water pouring over her skin, only it was thick, rust-colored fur, with unusual white stripes along her torso, legs, and arms. She grew even larger than the Jaguar form. Her hands grew into paws the size of a basketball with claws that could rip a man in two. While the set of teeth inside the Jaguar was impressive and intimidating, the size of the teeth of the Red Lion was beyond huge and scary. The Jaguar was sleeker, this form was bulkier, and the bird form was more graceful, yet still predatory.  

The next Cara, steel-colored fur broke out along golden skin, the rounder muzzle of the Wolf grew long, a longer muzzle of a canine, with gleaming long fangs and a long row of sharp teeth, ears grew longer, as her eyes turned a yellowish-amber. While this vision wasn’t as huge as the Tiger, it definitely appeared to have an intelligent awareness, giving it a more dangerous presence as a result.

But this next form smashed the others on scale and size by leaps and bounds. The face became pointer, the teeth smaller, but the incisors no less frightening. This Cara 5.0’s skin was washed away by ice-white fur, however its claws were by far the most dangerous; black, razor-sharp and long, the creature, a Polar Bear stood close to over ten feet. The roar it let out was impressive and unknowingly rumbled the real Cara’s chest.

Also unbeknownst to Cara was that as these images changed, so too did she. Raina who was recovering the fastest, along with Rikka, watched with fascination and… a hint of fear, at their former Mord-Sith Sister’s transformations. Both were still wracked with deep, painful shudders, the Bite still stinging their shoulders, but healing right before their eyes. Raina moved so she could watch over her lover Berdine, while keeping an eye on the other two. Whatever magic that was used to pull them here, wherever that may be, could be attributed to that… creature that stood upright. Half-human, female, if the inky, fur-covered breasts were any indication, with jade-colored eyes, had moved so quickly that before they could use their Agiels, had bitten them, deeply. It kept Raina’s body in between Berdine and Rikka’s as her teeth found purchase on her Raina’s thick shoulder muscle. Then as quickly as she attacked she let go, throwing Raina’s body at Berdine, as RIkka launched an attack, only to be blocked and bitten as well. The scream tore Berdine’s frantic concern from Raina. But by the time, Berdine gently but quickly lowered her lover’s body so that she could attack, the creature had already had Its jaws wrapped around her upper arm.

They’d been bitten by animals before, even a Gar.  But for some reason **that** pain, the pain from half-woman-half-beast had been more excruciating. Then something immediately entered their bloodstream, causing the pain to amplify. All three women writhed, shuddered, and screamed their way through the evening before they realized that they were no longer in D’Hara.

The large, growling sound coming from the skies clued them in that they were no longer even in their world because what they saw could only be described as some kind of huge steel bird. Raina and RIkka exchanged a terror-filled look, before both noticed that the other’s eyes were no longer their usual color. Instead Raina’s usual chocolate-colored irises, were now an orangey-color, and RIkka’s steady-blues had been replaced, by a yellowish-green color.

It was the growly sound underlying her voice that alerted Rikka to their ever-changing circumstances. “Wh-,” she swallowed, desperately trying to gather moisture in her mouth. “Wh-where are we?”

They returned their attention to Cara, watching as her form once again Shifted into a large, gray wolf. “Wh,”  [cough], “what kind of magic is this?” Raina panted out.

Another growly-voice sounded out, startling them from watching Cara. “This is not…,” Nicci swallowed as a hard shudder worked its way through her. “This is not our world.”

Meanwhile Berdine suddenly cried out, as bones began to break and reform, she could practically _see_ the Black Wolf running its way towards her, filling the inside of her skin, she could feel as its claws tear themselves through whatever human sheath separated them, allowing Her to step through and into Berdine’s body. She didn’t even hear the frantic cry from Raina as her body bowed so that only the top of her head and balls of her feet were touching the ground. Her fingers dug into the earth, as she felt her skin tear itself open so that the Beast could spill through.

Raina painfully shuffled and crawled her way closer to her lover until she was suddenly sprayed by a thick mucus substance that covered her entire face, causing her eyes to clench shut. She reached  up with a trembling hand to wipe the substance from her eyes,  when she could finally blink them open, she had to close them quickly for fear  that they were seeing a hallucination.

If not, she couldn’t explain how what used to be her lover, was now some kind of huge, half-human, half-black-Wolf. But before she could process this, her skin began to heat up, her bones started to shift, breaking and re-knitting, causing Raina to let out a dull scream. She didn’t even notice that Wolf-Berdine had crept closer, whining, before it growled warningly at the others. It placed itself protectively between Raina and the others, while Raina Shifted into another half-human-half-Wolf; Its fur a deep brown, with a patch of gray along it muzzle and paws.

Rikka had been sprayed with two coatings of that mucous and was feeling decidedly disgusted. Particularly when she watched to the Werewolves nuzzle, sniff, and curl against each other. They watched with both an animal and human awareness, Cara, whom they began to unknowingly accept as their Alpha. They knew this because their scents were similar; even though the blonde had fallen into unconsciousness, the strength of her Power, the strength of her Dominance was strong even though Cara had yet to physically and psychically demonstrate it. They just **_knew_**.

It was at this time that Rikka began to go through her own Shift. Similar to Raina and Berdine bones starting breaking and re-knitting, but that was where the similarities ended. Instead of _seeing_ a Wolf run up some kind of metaphysical corridor, Rikka saw a huge flying bird, Its dangerous talons able to pierce the hide of a Gar, and big enough crushed its head. Its beak was sharp enough to dig a furrow to a human’s heart. Brownish-golden feathers ripped along Rikka legs, up her torso, and along her arms, legs, and back. Her once blue eyes now glowed dark-brown, with hints of gold flecks.

Finally Rikka, fully Shifted stood well over seven feet, hands now huge, fingers had become dagger-like talons, her nose a sharp beak, shoulders broad, arms and legs muscular, the skin of her breasts now darkened to match the feathers, stood full and proud. For a moment, she could feel the animal-awareness from Raina and Berdine. Animal-awareness that suddenly turned predatory – towards her. They mistakenly believed she was food. She could feel through their link, the sensation of blood and meat became tantalizing – her blood and meat.

But she was no Prey. Lowering her great head, spreading her talons, her feathers ruffling, she let out a hiss of warning. Like some kind of passed-on DNA strand, Rikka, realized that she was a legendary Bird of Prey, descended from raptors, a bird that even sighted wolves as Prey. As both Raina and Berdine stood to their own new impressive heights; well over seven feet themselves, growls leaked out from both of them, as they sighted down Rikka. But all of their attention was once again redirected as the final two women began undergoing Shifts of their own. Backs bowing, screams leaking out, until what stood before them: a half-human-half- beast with light-blue fur and black-striped Tiger, replaced the honey-blonde Mage Nicci, plus a hulking half-woman, half Black Bear, stood in place of Denna.  As the different Were-species settled before the games of Dominance could begin, (Raina and Berdine had gone back to the stare-down with Rikka), Cara awoke.

However, Nicci had her sights on the lumbering Denna. But before anyone could attack, Cara slowly stood up, looking human but definitely not. She… felt as if she Shifted, several times, into several different species. She already knew that the challenge for her was to somehow stay in touch with her human side because she could feel the feralness inside her becoming stronger. So strong that when Nicci started slinking forward (which was odd because it was very cat-like, even though she stood upright like a human) towards Denna, Cara somehow found herself standing before Nicci, blocking her attack. Even though the Were-Tiger stood close to eight-foot, Cara quickly punched her in her sternum, causing Were-Tiger Nicci to fly back several feet, clutching her chest, and trying to breathe again.

“That is enough! There will be no more pain tonight unless **I** create it.” A thrumming heat washed up from her center to fill her chest, tightening her nipples, to thrum up in her throat, down her arms, and out her fingers.

Cara decidedly met each of her Pack member’s eyes; her will strong, her magic and Dominance and Power flowed over them, causing their eyes to drop from hers, heads lowered in Submission, as the sensations continued to ripple over their fur, feathers, and underneath their skin. It was like the Sun was pouring its rays all over them, baking them, without physically seeing its affect.

However, whatever else might have been said was cut off when another loud, unfamiliar sound – another growly-sound, but with more of a purring undercurrent sounded near them. Heads whipped around towards the source of it, only to see another metal box with wheels, but with a gleaming onyx-color coating it. It stopped. They warily watched as a human cautiously approached them before stopping, his mouth hanging open when he sees the hulking Were creatures behind the hot nude blonde.

 _Damn Weres! They were fucking everywhere!_ The man slowly backed towards his car, only to stop in fear as the blonde began to languidly stroll towards him. He held up his hands in a placating gesture, trying to hide his increasing terror as the blonde crept closer. He knew that any sudden moves might motivate them to attack. Noticing her inhumanly brilliant jade-colored eyes, made him wonder what type of Were she was.

“Ahh, look lady, I thought I heard someone in trouble…,” he swallowed nervously, “b- b-but I can see y-you have everything under control. I’l--,”

“Actually, it appears as though you’ve come at the right time.” Cara could smell the sweet-stench of his fear, tantalizing taste buds she didn’t know she had.

The smell of his humanness, underneath another artificial scent, no doubt a perfume of some sort, made her mouth water.   ** _Meat_** was the scent he was emanating and it was all Cara could do to lock in her growl, or Shift to her Beast that was the hungriest. She could feel her canines elongating again, in preparation for sinking themselves into a meal, to feel the hot, metallic blood filling her mouth, like the finest, rarest steak.

This is what her Beasts, her Spiritual Tribe, were _telling_ her, filling her veins like with primal DNA instinct. The Beast that was currently fighting for Dominance among her group of inner-Beasts, wasn’t the obvious one like the Bear or even the Wolf. Oddly it was her Jaguar. She could **_see_** , like some kind of inner-eye, her Beast laying on Its side, Its tail swishing lazily back and forth, as It regally watched the Others snarling and growling back forth, paws swiping at each other in warning. Her Bear, her Eagle, her Red Tiger, and her Wolf were all circling, pacing around each other, testing each other, and yet none approached her Jaguar. It was if they had some innate understanding that She was the Alpha and Omega, she was the seed that fed them all.

When she heard her Corporeal Tribe - Raina, Berdine, Rikka, Denna, and Nicci begin to growl, knowing that prey was before them, and as newly made Weres, their control was minimal, Cara knew it was time to assert her Dominance, permanently. That also meant the human’s time was running out.  Like some kind of ancient DNA strand that allowed humans to scent danger, the human male knew it too. Just as he knew that before him stood six very dangerous women, or six Weres. In his limited interaction and knowledge about the Preternatural community, even he knew that different Were species didn’t usually hang out together; he wanted to hope that they didn’t… hunt together. But who knew what those creatures did. Maybe they just came from some kind of meeting, or perhaps involved in some kind of freaky ritual, if the naked skin was any indication.

He didn’t care, he just wanted to get into his car, and leave. Fast. When he saw the tan blonde, with the unusual jade-green eyes tilt her head, eyes steady and intense, her nostrils flared as if she was scenting him, he knew that his time was running out. Running would only excite them or he seemed to remember reading that somewhere, probably one of those redneck hunting magazines his brother-in-law insisted on showing him.

Of course, having said brother-in-law nearby would probably turn the stakes in his favor, because Dale never left home without some kind of weapon; a real end-of-days kind of moron, or survivalist of some sort. As he watched as the shorter, muscular one started to creep closer, he wished he’d taken his brother-in-laws advice about the hunting knife. But as that woman was about to step around her, the blonde, jade-eyed woman suddenly snarled, grabbed her by the cuff of her neck, lifted her, and then threw her some a couple feet away. Being Preternatural had its advantages since the thrown woman simply flipped and landed smoothly on her feet.

The others started forward only to have the woman refocus her entire attention on them. Suddenly he could hear what sounded like bones… crunching, he watched in horrid fascination movement under her skin, like things were breaking and reforming. While she appeared the same, he watched as her build lengthened, became broader, muscles bunching and becoming more defined, until instead of the smaller frame, she now stood well over six feet, taller than him. Her skin grew darker until it was almost nut-brown. A light dusting of hair grew thicker and more lustrous, like a luxurious pelt along her shoulders, forearms, the muscle indention of her back, and the tops of her thighs. And that wasn’t all. Like the sun suddenly pouring its energy over the immediate area, Power seemed to erupt from the blonde, making the human male feel as if his skin was being pulled taut, the other women began to whine, cry-out, and then fall to their knees. One red-head and two other blondes, taller, one more voluptuous than the other, started to shakily press their chests into the ground, becoming prostrate before the Partially-Shifted blonde. Another tanned blonde, who’d been glaring daggers at the Partially-Shifted blonde also found herself on her knees, one clawed hand in front of her face as if trying to ward off the Power rolling off of the Shifted one.

But that lasted until the Partially-Shifted blonde focused specifically on her and if he’d been able to see her eyes, he’d notice that they constantly bled into different colors: completely onyx, golden-brown, amber, gold cat-like irises, and then back to jade-green. With sweat dotting her brow, her body trembling violently, the glaring blonde tried to cast a spell, but the Power roiling off of Cara was making it difficult for Nicci to think, so she kept stumbling over the words, mispronouncing others. When the full might of Cara’s Power began to focus on Nicci, she knew she couldn’t last, Nicci was an Alpha, but Cara was the Dominant. Her Beast knew that now, actually It knew it a while ago, so much so that Nicci began to fight not only Cara’s Dominance, but her own Beast’s recognition of Its Pack leader.

Finally her head bowed, giving in, exhaustion pouring over her frame, as her upper-body fell before Cara, in Submission. However she was unprepared for the vicious Bite sinking into her shoulder, immediately causing blood to well up and spill over. Wanting to move or fight back had been immediately quelled under the Power of Cara’s Alphaness. A word flashed through all their minds: **_Dominus_** , their ruler. So not only was Nicci falling under the Power of her Dominus, she was also being taught a lesson: mutiny will not be tolerated. She could have Shifted into her new Were-Tiger form, but her Beast was too busy shuddering under the Power of Its Alpha. Once Nicci sufficiently understood that, both her Beast, human side, and even her magical core, began to feel a cool, soothing breeze wrapping itself around her body; even her torn skin began knitting itself back together.

Cara’s normally smoothly modulated tones were now growly with her Partially-Shifted. “You are all **Mine**. You will bow before my Will or there will be swift consequences.” Pinning her gaze on each female, approvingly watched as they bowed their heads in submission, she refocused her attention on the male, in Raina’s pawed-clasp.

The male knew he only had a small window of opportunity to plead his case. “Wait! I- I can help you!” He could feel the hot, panting breath along his head and shoulders from the Werewolf holding him. “Eating me is punishable by death,” he quickly stated.

Raina looked in question at Cara, who’d narrowed her eyes at that male’s statement. “What do you mean? Between the six of us, they’d never be able to find the body.” The male felt himself urinate a little as an involuntary terror-stricken reaction to Cara’s response.

“Y-yes, but people would know…,” he swallowed, trying to wet his parched mouth. “I-I I’m a professor at a local university and I know others like you. If I went missing they’d immediately suspect creatures like you. I-I can introduce you so-so they can help you.”

Nicci growled, not liking him calling them creatures. “Watch your tone, human. And why would they if there is no body for them to find? They could think you willingly left or disappeared.”

Denna was having a hard time adjusting to her humongous size. She didn’t even know what creature she was. Everything felt awkward and huge, but one thing she could acknowledge was this innate… sense that Cara was her Mistress, in way that not even the Mistresses of Mord-Sith were. It was a deep, intense, and involuntary sense that Cara was her Protector and her… Mistress. At first she tried to fight against that instinct, but when Cara let loose her Power, the fight leaked away to be replaced by feelings of submission, contentment, even safety. She was a part of Cara, just as Cara was now a part of her.

However that didn’t prevent the hunger that was tearing through her, the smell of fresh prey, meat, and blood from the human male was intoxicating. She could almost _see_ herself bite through his flesh, _feel_ blood filling her mouth, spilling along her gleaming dark fur. It was only Cara’s will that was holding her and Denna suspected, the rest the Tribe back as well.

Berdine was able to slip in a question. “So humans are aware of our kind?

With something like relief flickering through his eyes, the male latched on to that question. “Yes! There-there are laws governing species. Laws that if broken will be given an order of Execution.”

Rikka stood slightly behind Cara, ready to defend her at all costs, defend their **_Dominus_** , saliva dripping from her sharp wolf-teeth, enjoying the scent of his fear, not so much his urine. Cara Shifted effortlessly back into her human form, standing a little shorter than the human male—for some reason this made her more intimidating.

Transformation gave her frame a few inches, making her human form taller. “So what you’re saying is that you disappear and they’ll immediately suspect our species? Who is **_they_** and how can you be so sure, and most importantly why should we care?”

Gulping, he could feel the sweat trickling like ice down his back. “There is a law enforcement group that investigates and punishes anyone not fully human. My wife knows I was driving to the store, she’ll report me missing. Bu-but I can help you.” Feeling his eyes water, he pleaded, “Please, please don’t kill me.”

Cara prowled closer to him, sniffing him, considering him. “Fine.” Watching the relief erupt in his eyes. “For now. In the meantime, my Tribe needs food, shelter, and information. If you cannot deliver that,” she raised her hand, Partially-Shifting it, her finger grew until they turned into the claws of her Bear. “Then you are no use to us.” Bringing her face in closer, “Do I make myself clear?”

Shaking in fear, hoping he won’t pee on himself again, he frantically nodded, wondering how he’ll explain this to his wife. 


	7. Chapter 7

Kahlan delicately dabbed at the corner of her lips, the blood that Belle had supplied her, the lovely red-head tasted divine. Currently she was lounging on a day-bed in Belle’s quarters, reading current news and affairs. _Fascinating this world has become_ , she marveled.  She couldn’t wait to begin her journey. But for now, she was thankful she had some sustenance because she’ll need all of inner-resolve to deal with the Council. She’d also been reading up about the happenings in a place called St. Louis, Missouri. Apparently that was where Mr. Oliver met his demise. The Traveler had already visited, he was _wearing_ a young Japanese-Parisian; very handsome. But then the Traveler never ‘wore’ an ugly body. Of course, when one had the ability to metaphysically and psychically inhabit bodies, it seemed a waste of time and effort to inhabit someone unattractive.

He also filled her in about what had happened to Mr. Oliver, about the Necromancer, a human named Anita Blake, the Master Vampire of the City, Jean-Claude, and Richard Zeeman, the Ulfric of the local Were-Wolf pack, completed their Triumvirate. When she mentioned them to Belle, Kahlan enjoyed a moment when the Vampire became annoyed, possibly angry, and Kahlan knew a visit to this St. Louis was definitely in order in the near future.

A slithering noise on the door-handle indicated yet another visitor—various Council members have been sending down their minions to greet Kahlan, no doubt, to scout, and collect useful information before the meeting. The Vampire that walked through the door was considerably distasteful to Kahlan. A Rotting Vampire, Yvette, a bitchy, sadistic Vampire, who just loved showing off her ability to _Rot_ because she knew it created fear and disgust. Kahlan was only disgusted and irritated. She’d been fortunate enough to befriend a Rotter from D’Amour’s Line, a powerful member of the Council, during her term as part of Mother’s Guard. Raquiel first attempted to intimidate Kahlan through his ability only caused her hands to erupt into green fire that began to singe his skin. It had been her first time, triggered as some kind of involuntary defense mechanism, compliments of her magic.

From that moment on after a few… rough starts, they began to form a weird friendship. She got over her violent disgust of his ability, probably because there was no smell associated with it. Morte D’Amour, Raquiel’s Maker, was an interesting and scary Master Vampire. While Belle Morte could create and fed on lust, D’Amour fed on death. He also felt that legitimizing Vampires was a bad idea, and like Mr. Oliver, resisted change or even a hint of progress. Perhaps he felt that progress meant empowering others, Vampires, Weres; dangerous for a self-involved, narcissistic monster like Morte.

The Dragon is another fascinating character, equally dangerous, and next to the Traveler, she was one of the few members that Kahlan truly respected. She was a warrior, a former Roman gladiator, she remained mostly removed from Council affairs, unless it threatened her or hers, the Council, or Marmee. She had the ability to draw energy from other Vampires, even from great distances.

Mr. Oliver predated homo-sapiens and was called the Earthmover. Along with the ability to cause earthquakes, could appear in daylight, levitate, and he was also able to draw blood from a distance. A handy _little tool_ , in a pinch. Mother had been saddened (and angered) by his True Death.

Then of course there was the distasteful Padma- Master of the Beasts. These were the members of the Council - a group that had grown decadent, crazier, and treacherously insubordinate. Not all of course, and that is what Kahlan had to determine – who needed to be _spanked_. She already had her suspicions, an ability of hers, being able to ferret out the truth of things. Giancarlo arrived with her outfit in-hand. It wouldn’t do to not dress appropriately and for effect when the Council meeting convened. White leather pants accompanied by a three-quarter length white leather coat, so buttery and smooth, it almost felt like heavy silk. An expensive sapphire-blue bustier, along with black garters, lace stockings, and gorgeous dark-blue 5-inch, **Christian Louboutins** , completed the outfit.

Kahlan spent a few moments meditating, pulling her Power, connecting with the Earth, with Mother; the smell of jasmine and rainstorms filled the room, as well as, Kahlan’s own scent of magic, her eyes bleeding completely onyx, before Shifting to the eyes of a Were-Sabertooth Tiger. All the while her Lieutenants dressed her, shivering as her Power rolled over them like a brush of air.

When she opened her eyes, they sought her Second, Dennee. “Is she here?”

Nodding her head, she cocked her head as if listening to something important, smiled in Kahlan’s direction, pleasure dancing in her eyes, before gliding over to the door, opening it, and then allowed someone to enter. Another dark-haired Vampire strode through, wearing a slinky all-white dress, coming to a stop before Kahlan. She bowed over Kahlan’s hand, kissing it in a show of devotion.

“She finally let you out?” A smirk that might have been insubordinate on anyone else, but on Morgana it only elicited a chuckle from Kahlan and Dennee.

She was her First Childe, now a _Soudre de Sang_ , but Blood-Oathed herself to Kahlan. Mother had dismissed her from her Rest, no doubt due to jealousy. She didn’t like anyone else diverting Kahlan’s attention from her for too long. Morgana had been a delightful period during Kahlan’s guard duty. Throughout the centuries Kahlan often inquired why Morgana hadn’t created her own Brood. But aside from the hulking ebony-skinned Were-Lion called Sergio, and a white-haired, youthful-looking, female Vampire, Morgana’s Second, Athena, who also accompanied her Mistress into the room, Morgana was mostly a solitary being.

And no one knew more about magic than her, especially since Merlin had been killed by Jean-Claude in this St. Louis. “Well, I expected you to be waiting at the Rest’s gates, but alas, you disappointed me,” Kahlan mockingly responded.

Grabbing Morgana’s hand, she tugged her into a hug, taking pleasure in knowing it made the powerful Vampire uncomfortable. Cupping her face, Kahlan was truly thankful Morgana was still around for so many reasons. “I am glad you were able to join us. I hesitate going into this pit of vipers without you.”

Morgana snorted. “Please, if anyone should be afraid, it’s that bunch in there.” She picked up a gold-leafed goblet, sniffed its contents, and then hummed in appreciation, before taking a drink. “A proper sorting out is what they need. Also I heard you’re looking for a Coven?”

Kahlan grinned, knowing full well that Morgana would take her sweet time revealing what she knew if only to mildly irritate Kahlan. “Would you two stop teasing each other, you know that only leads to something we do not have the time for. By the way, love the dress Morgana,” chimed in Dennee.

Pouting, Morgana gestured to her Second, Athena who only rolled her eyes, very used to the interactions between Mistress Kahlan and her Mistress Morgana. “Do you see? She’s as insubordinate as your Second. What do we need them for, certainly not for our egos!” 

Morgana grinned when Athena approached to land a deep kiss on her. “Because we are Family; connected to the First Brood, and unlike most Vampire Circles, we stay because we belong to you. Plus could you imagine me belonging to that lot?!” Athena gave a shudder at the thought of being at the mercy of someone like Padma or Morte D’Amour.

A deep booming voice interrupted their banter. “Mistress, your presence is requested,” announced Sergio.

Kahlan shared a look with Morgana and then intently scanned the rest of her group. “Well, looks like it’s time. I urge you all to protect yourselves– these are Beings of great power and they love to play games.” She stood, smoothing her hands along her leather jacket, enjoying the feel of the buttery-soft leather. “We simply need to remind them to stick to the rules.”


	8. Chapter 8

Sergio, followed by Dennee, another Vampire body-guard named Giancarlo, Athena, Kahlan, and then Morgana protectively brought up the rear, entered a room that smelled heavy with sandalwood and blood. Belle Morte sat perched, immaculately coifed, in a throne-like chair, in a line of similar chairs, filled with Powerful Soudre de Sangs Vampires. Except, interesting enough, the Dragon’s chair, which was a simple settee. Gold-leaf and real gold wall sconces, fixtures, and trimming, expansive and detailed motifs made with semi-precious stones, detailing Council members’ likenesses like an expensive, slightly-gaudy mural on the wall, a long highly-polished, onyx-glass table, with intricately-patterned silver pitchers, no doubt filled with blood, with matching goblets. The cavernous room was a decadent, ostentatious, Roman-esque, party room; Kahlan gave a mental eye-roll at this _Ode-to-Council Members’-Egos_ room.

At least they included Mother; although knowing Marmee Noir, she’d no doubt illustrate her utter disdain at their attempts to curry favor, preening at the goddess-like depiction of her. Contradictory, was a word Mother embodied and not knowing that quality in her would be at your own peril. The only small pleasure enjoyed was the minute discomfort on most of the faces of the Council at seeing not only Kahlan, but Morgana as well. Morgana had been offered a place on the Council. But Morgana, like Kahlan despised most of them and couldn’t think of a worse torture than being forced to work with them.

Morte D’Amour sat indolently in his chair, feeling confident. Since Mr. Oliver’s demise, he felt sure that Mother’s release of her Warrior Mage signified that she too, believed in controlling their human-cattle. _Certainly not their equal and certainly not meant to live in harmony with them_ , he thought sneeringly. Metaphysically nodding his head at his Yvette, one of his favored Rotters, the thin blonde rose from her seat behind him, and approached Mistress Kahlan.

Next to D’Amour, sat the Dragon, a tawny-skinned female, with decorative tattoo running along the side of her neck, like a serpent rising up, to wrap around her bald head; taking up one side of her face, up until it wove itself in intricate patterns alongside her head. Slightly nodding her head in greeting at Kahlan, noting her twinkling preternaturally-blue eyes returning the sentiment, she barely held back her growl at Morte machinations.  The Traveler smiled a greeting of his own, which was also returned, from his latest ‘borrowed’ body of a blonde-haired German college student… or _former_ college student.

Belle Morte was surrounded by her trusted entourage: the sadistic Musette sat near her shoulder, a little behind as befitting her stature, on either side of Belle stood two creepy Vampire children named Valentina and Bartolome, who are reported to be Musette’s… torture assistants and equally “enthusiastic” in their duties. But Kahlan didn’t judge them too harshly considering their traumatic beginnings. Belle did the Vampire species a service by destroying the children’s Maker. A pedophile, who’d been busy making psychotic “Child Brides.” Valentina had been his most recent addition, so he hadn’t a chance to truly damage her. Nevertheless, Kahlan suspected that their enthusiasm in the work was an attempt to work through bitterness and anger due to being forever stuck in their eight-year old bodies. Directly in back of Belle, stood Musette’s Human Servant, Angelito, a hulking male with swarthy skin, long black hair, and aqua blue eyes. 

Yvette, D’Amour’s lieutenant approached Kahlan, perfectly coifed in a slinky red dress. As she came to a stop in front of her, she bowed her head, acknowledging Kahlan’s Dominance, only to allow a flash of anger to flicker through her eyes, before she immediately hid it with a fake smile. “Greetings, Mistress Kahlan. My Master welcomes you and looks forward to speaking with you.”

Kahlan narrowed her eyes. She’s never liked Yvette or her Master. “Surely, my absence hasn’t negated politeness? Are you not going to acknowledge, Mistress Morgana?” Her sapphire-blue eyes edged black as she casted a protective wall over her Brood and herself, against the shifting energies. It wouldn’t do to not be prepared against any attempted attacks. Of course, if that happens then Kahlan will have to get nasty.

Enjoying a shiver at that idea; after all she did love a good fight. 


	9. Chapter 9

D’Amour flowed to his feet in a fit of outrage. Kahlan continued to sit calmly as he railed about Jean-Claude, St. Louis, and how could they not seek retribution for the death of Mr. Oliver and Alejandro.

Kahlan’s magically projected voice thundered around the room. “You will accept my decision, as Mother’s Avatar. As you know, to displease me will be dealt with swiftly and harshly.” She stood up, languidly strolling closer, allowing her sharp nails to scratch the onyx table, creating an intensely unpleasant sound as a result. “This Council has grown decadent and insolent, inevitable betrayal grows thick on your tongue – that stops now!” Her glittering eyes panned the Council Members, enjoying the way Belle grew paler than normal when Kahlan’s now completely inky-black eyes locked onto her.

However, if Morte still had the ability to grow red with rage, she’s certain he would. Instead, he began to Rot; thick chunks of flesh began wilting, others grew thick with ‘fluids’ causing the flesh to become dark as it rotted right before their eyes. Pursing her lips in annoyance, even more so when she felt a ‘push’ on her vaunted magically-enhanced, psychic-walls, signaling an energy attack. Sharing a knowing look with Morgana, she psychically connected with her.

**_D’Amour?_ **

_Who else? Not very subtle is he?_

**_Do you want the ‘honors’ or should I?_ **

_You ‘talk’ and I’ll do._

**_Very well. Be careful._ **

“Obviously not every member has warranted our suspicions. So it is clear that new leadership is needed.”

Suddenly a blur of motion and Morte D’Amour stood in front of Kahlan, his claws extended. But Kahlan had already moved. Lifting another heavy, throne-like chair, she smashed him with it, opening a bloody wound on his temple, noting that Morgana was already dealing with Yvette. Green fire grew in her palms, readying themselves to bathe Yvette’s rotting flesh with it. Kahlan already had her hand around D’Amour’s throat, releasing her own brand of Power and magic.

Kahlan was unique in many respects. The least of which was that she could trap anyone’s Power and use it against them, even retaining a bit of their Power long after. In addition, when her hand wrapped around someone’s throat two things may happen: it would enslave the Being or it would send a rush of intense pain through them that would progressively get worse until they begged her to die.  She wanted to kill him, but for political and pragmatic reasons, like endangering his entire Line, Kahlan decided to allow him to exist. With her hand still around his neck, paralyzing him, she flushed intense pain, like sunbeams blazing through his veins

But that didn’t mean she couldn’t cause him some discomfort and from the screams coming from Yvette, apparently Morgana had the same thoughts. “Dragon, you and the Traveler will be first up as the new leaders of the Council. Between the two of you, decide which one will serve starting now. Belle, we will review your… _ambitions_ at a later date. In the meantime, knowing how much time Dragon stays away from Council business, you’ll function as Regent.” Her eyes bled back to their glowing sapphire-blue color. “Don’t disappoint me. Again,” she growled menacingly.

Soon after, Kahlan spun away from the screaming Council member, as a Were-Rat flew through the air, claws out, she smoothly crouched down causing the Were to fly over her. She slid her own clawed nails up and into the belly of the Were, eliciting a screech of pain, as it innards began spilling out when it landed, blood splattering her face. The magical pain finally coursed its way through D’Amour’s veins, allowing him to shakily stand, quickly seeking out Kahlan. Yvette was finding that her rotting abilities were hindered by intense pain every time she attempted to use the dark magic.

She wondered why her Second hadn’t attempted to join in, only to notice Warrick, a former Knight of the Crusades, was engulfed in a green fire that seemed to immobilize him. The grimace on his face indicated it was not pleasant. Meanwhile the Traveler and the Dragon calmly watched the proceedings around them, not allowing their own people to join in. Mistress Kahlan was here to send a message on behalf of Mother.  She was her Avatar and the fact that Marmee Noir hadn’t channeled herself through their link, indicated that she was more than confident that Kahlan could handle the situation.

Although the Dragon remained skeptical, after all Marmee Noir rarely gave up control, and as a master strategist from her days as a gladiator, the Dragon could only assume that Mother had other plans. Usually that meant nothing pleasant. She looked over at the borrowed body of the Traveler, affecting a supremely bored look. But she knew that was a façade. The Traveler had a keen mind; chances are he was busy assessing how he can take advantage of the situation. However, it appeared the best of the evening had yet to come; as she watched Padma’s whelp, Fernando attempt to creep up behind Morgana, while Musette, had pulled her silver-daggers with menacing intent on Mistress Kahlan. But the Dragon knew neither would get that far.

Shaking her head, the Dragon settled in to watch.


	10. Chapter 10

The Traveler could only roll his eyes in irritation at the Council’s predictable and supremely unhelpful behavior. It was moments like these that he could understand why humans considered them animals. That didn’t prevent him from taking a little enjoyment when Mistress Kahlan’s Master Vampire, Dennee met that distasteful Fernando head-on. Her nails now claws raked across his face, eliciting a screech that was immediately cut-off when she leveled a thundering punch to his (the Traveler winced) privates. However, she didn’t let go, he watched as she tightened her grip, causing him to fall to his knees.

“I know what you’re thinking, Fernando. You’re thinking that if that ‘bitch’ rips off my testicles, I’ll be less of a ‘man.’” Tightening her grip even more, drinking in his screams of pain, she continued. “Well, I hear about your… distasteful habits one more time,” she leaned  closer, her eyes bled onyx, “I promise you that there won’t be enough parts left to identify you as a… ‘man.’”

And with that she let go, but not before she sliced her nails across his throat, and stepping back before any more of his blood could spray on her. Fernando clutched both his groin area and his neck, as he fell to the floor in a fit of agony and no little fear. He needed blood and soon. She stood over him, straightening her blouse. “Oh and tell your father my Mistress will be looking for him.”

Morgana was suddenly standing next to her, amusingly stared down at the writhing male on the ground. Pouting she asked, “Couldn’t you have waited for me to join in the ‘fun?’”

They both watched as Giancarlo blasted a huge fist across Musette’s face, almost caving in her head, after she slashed one of her knives across his stomach. Suddenly Kahlan’s voice echoed out throughout the chamber.

“Belle, please call off your dog. I know you’d hate to lose the little sadist.” A growling Musette stomped her foot after being called back through her link with her Mistress. In fact, she’d barely had any fun; Belle Morte prohibited any of her people from participating in further _activities_. Glaring at Giancarlo, her eyes promising future retribution, she stepped back, and walked towards her standing Mistress. When she reached her side, Belle Morte’s hand suddenly whipped out, and slapped her.

“Je vous interdit expressement d’attaquer quiconque!” Belle Morte did not like it when her orders were ignored. She was aiming to endear herself back in Marmee Noir’s good graces, having someone from her Line attack Mother’s Avatar or her group would hamper this goal. She would deal with Musette’s defiance later.

“I apologize, Madamoiselle Kahlan. She was expressly forbidden from attacking. Please exzept my giftz as recompense?” She walked over towards Kahlan, thinking how she wished she was part of her Line. She was a magnifique specimen. Her blue-black hair lay slightly tousled from her earlier efforts, her glorious heaving breasts, full and heavy. Strong shoulders and arms accentuated by the tight, white leather. Her eyes so like Jean-Claude’s glowing sapphires, were scorching hot from irritation. Kahlan stepped over the still writhing Fernando, her eyes gleamed in satisfaction at Dennee’s handiwork. “I see in all these centuries that certain members have yet to learn restraint.” She stepped closer to Belle Morte until she was staring down into the glowing honey-amber gaze. Reaching up, Kahlan lightly caressed Belle’s cheek, letting out a little magic green fire at the tips of her fingers touching Belle.

Belle Morte gasped, a slight sensation of pleasure-pain caressing her. Kahlan smiled; it wasn’t a pleasant one. “You have even fewer chances than the others.” Kahlan leaned down until her full lips were at Belle’s delicate ear. “Mother knows what you’re thinking,” she whispered.

“You will give me two Lieutenants. In addition, you’ll prepare my arrival to this St. Louis – I expect no problems from your Master of the City. And tonight you will give me your blood.”  Belle Morte knew what that meant.

As Marmee Noir’s Avatar, she would use Kahlan to strengthen the Blood-Bond between them, and chances are it wouldn’t be pleasant. But she would do it, if only to save her Brood, her Line, and perhaps come out of this situation somewhat unscathed. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! Hot SCENE AHEAD! AVOID READING @ Work... unless you got 'it' like that.

Cara was busy lounging on…  Dean’s(?), bed in the master bedroom. She was licking her fingers from this meat coated in a delicious, sweet and spicy, thick, rust-colored sauce. Bar-b-que sauce it was called. Cara had already devoured several lengths of linked-ribs, a whole chicken, and coarse pale-yellow bread, called cornbread. As a result she was lying on her back, her Beasts sated, her belly slightly swollen and very full. Curled up at the foot of the bed was Rikka, on one side lay Raina and Berdine, both still feeding from the huge meal. On the other side of Cara snuggled Denna, whose head lay on Cara’s shoulder. Cara’s head laid in Nicci’s lap who was busy jamming her thumb into a hard, black rectangular object that somehow controlled moving pictures on the object located on the wall. Nicci, along with Berdine had also taken it upon themselves to learn as much about their new… existence as possible. Hence the reason why there were books scattered around them and along the floor. All of the women were unselfconsciously naked.  Cara believed it had more to do with their intense Bond as a Tribe than any left-over Mord-Sith sisterhood experience, (Nicci even less so).

 _This world was fascinating,_ thought Cara. And advanced: from the horseless, rolling metal-box called a car, to this flat mirror-like object which contained moving pictures – moving pictures with sound. She could still hear Dean’s wife, a short, slightly-overweight woman, named Marla, pleading with her husband to get rid of their new guests, or report them to something called the RPIT. Cara made a mental note to find out what that stood for—chances are it wouldn’t be good. Now that Cara had fed one urgent need, she now had another. She smoothly untangled herself from her pile of naked women to pad her way into the bathing room, or as Dean called it, a bathroom.

A box compared to the Mord-Sith bathing rooms, but then apparently it was only meant to serve one, perhaps two people at a time. Nicci followed her into the room. “You will need a Second.”

Not taking her concentration from figuring out which knob to turn and for what, Cara responded. “And I’m guessing you would like to apply for that position?”

Nicci decided that using logic would work the best. “Using someone from a mated pair could compromise their priorities at crucial moments. Denna is entirely too slavishly devoted to you, so it would be difficult for her to offer objective critique and analysis—which you’ll need in a Second. And Rikka is not an Alpha, an essential trait for someone who may be required to ‘speak’ for you when you cannot. Which leaves me.”

Tilting her head, Cara finally worked one of the knobs to turn on water. It was hot. She assumed that its opposite would provide cold. Satisfied that she’d worked out this modern bathing system she finally directed her attention to Nicci. “Care to join me?”

 

***

 

The two blondes slid sensually over wet, heated skin. Cara’s feet were propped up on the ledge of the tub, while her hand tightly gripped honey-blonde hair similar to hers, as Nicci lips and tongue worked Cara over the edge. They’d been making a mess on the floor, water dashed against the sides of the tub as their bodies undulated and shifted. At the moment, Nicci’s hands were cupping Cara’s firm bottom in order to hold her Alpha’s swollen pussy to her mouth.

Nicci was really starting to appreciate her new added strength, being able to easily hold Cara aloft while she feasted. She rarely had the opportunity to enjoy this pastime since being on-the-run from both her former Sisters of the Light, Sisters of the Dark, the Seeker’s band of do-gooders that until recently included Cara, the Keeper, and of course, the former Darken Rahl, who occasionally crawled out of the ‘pit’ to torment everyone. Nicci had long ago resigned herself to realizing that she’d created an extensive list of powerful adversaries. It meant having to constantly seek more and more Power in order to protect herself. It was only recently that she’d begun to feel… weary, even lonely. Although she’d go to the Keeper before admitting that last bit.

So to say that her new circumstances provided a new lease on life was understating things. Having this new life intertwined with Cara was… disconcerting at first, but as their Bond cemented, the mentality of her Beast, along with being a part of the Tribe reinforced it… settling something deep inside Nicci she hadn’t been aware she needed. Nicci also knew that unlike most people, Cara would be fair and loyal, to hitch her ride to her leadership not only meant less pain, but would give Nicci a sense of purpose that was honorable and… , as she lapped up the spilling juices from Cara’s swollen folds, had its perks.

As she speared her tongue into Cara’s tight hole, Nicci enjoyed the sensation of her Dominus’ flesh clamping down on her tongue, releasing even more juices onto her tastebuds. Nicci wasn’t sure if it was due to her altered psyche as a Tribe member or her more feral instincts as a Were-Blue Tiger, she knew she would only ever submit to Cara in the future. Nudging her nose against Cara’s quivering clit, before pulling her tongue to take a lavish swipe along the groves of the reddened and swollen folds, and then plunging her tongue again, this time seeking that rough patch of skin. Meanwhile Cara was working her deliciously sore and red erect nipples; squeezing, rolling, and pulling the tips added to the sensation of Nicci’s tongue.

When that cheeky bitch tongued that spot up deep inside, causing her hips to jerk and shudder as Nicci provoked a deep, hot, swelling sensation, that tightened her stomach muscles, made her nipples even more rigid, while her clit swelled and pulsed.

Cara hissed her encouragement, “Yesss, right there.”

Pulling her hand from her tingling nipple, Cara worked her hand back down her muscled abdomen, smoothing her fingers along her bare folds (a left-over from her Mord-Sith days; removing all body hair), until the tips of her fingers began circling her larger-than-average clitoris. The knot of purplish-reddish flesh quivered and pulsated under her fingers. When Nicci slowly retracted her tongue eliciting a long, deep moan of protest from Cara, the sound was suddenly hitched when Nicci trailed her mouth through her folds, lapping her tongue, even going so far as to momentarily seal her lips around Cara’s hole so that she could capture all of Cara’s tangy juices, enjoying as it slid down her throat.

But Nicci knew that even though Cara, like the rest of them had been significantly changed, Cara grew up Mord-Sith, and Nicci could still… _smell_ her Mord-Sith magic; greatly changed, but still there.  Sweet, soft, love-making wouldn’t be sufficient, at least not from her. And so with that she minutely Shifted, her incisors started to lengthen and sharpen, hands grew larger, fingers became thicker and longer, with the pads of her fingers became rougher. Her nails began digging into Cara’s bottom until little furrows of blood appeared which only provoked a purring-growl to rumble from Cara’s chest.    

When Nicci began lapping up the tiny droplets of blood from the welts left by her incisors along Cara’s inner-thighs, mixing in with the tangy cum coating her tongue, it elicited her own rumbling purr of appreciative pleasure. Retracting her tongue from the slight wound and her clenching hole, she worked her mouth up to Cara’s twitching clit, so that her now thicker and longer fingers could plunge themselves into the blonde Alpha’s tight hole, stretching her so deliciously. When Nicci delicately – or as delicately a Were-Blue Tiger can; which is why the added pleasure-pain tickle from the tips of Nicci’s claws against Cara’s g-spot, created an avalanche of sensation. Particularly when Nicci clamped her lips around her throbbing clit and began alternating between lashing the tip, to dragging her tongue along the underside of the clitoral glands, causing Cara’s body to tremble, arch as the orgasm roared through, swept up from the fluttering inside her cunt, tightening around Nicci’s fingers, her clit growing so hard until it juddered inside the Were-Tiger’s mouth.

Cara barely registered Nicci effortlessly picking her up to place her back in bed, the rest of her Tribe moving to curl around her. Rikka bent her head to lash and swirl her tongue around one of Cara’s erect nipple, while Berdine cupped and fondled the other, even as Raina slid her fingers into her lover’s wet heat from behind, all the while Denna watched avidly with heated, Shifted, completely onyx-colored eyes, as she caressed Cara’s feet and calves. All of her Tribe members soaked up the cries and moans as she was worked through her orgasm; almost involuntary, a picture of Kahlan flitted through her thoughts, making her orgasm seem sharper. _Oh how she missed her!_


	12. Chapter 12

When Dean tentatively knocked on the door the following morning, he could still hear the reverberations in his head of his wife’s continuous harangue regarding their _guests_. In addition, was the noise of what sounded remarkably like an… orgy, complete with the peculiar noises similar to “animal fucking kingdom” echoing around the house last night. But he was driving into St. Louis today and thought his… guests could get the proper assistance they needed. More importantly they wouldn’t eat them out of _house and home_ , not to mention, threaten their general well-being. Of course, it also helped that it would finally get him out of the ‘dog-house’ with his wife.

He raised his hand to knock again but was startled when the door suddenly opened, and one of the blonde’s, not Cara, answered the door. The smell of sex and other fluids was strong, even for his weak human senses. He began sweating as she leaned against doorframe, her arms crossed in front of her naked (impressive), breasts. In fact, he was desperately trying to not look at her completely nude body.

“Human. How can I help you this fine morning?” Denna enjoyed the discomfort radiating from Dean. He also couldn’t hide his arousal – men were so predictable.

“Umm,” he cleared his throat before continuing, “I’m heading into St. Louis and I thought your… Clan might want to come?” When a perfectly-manicured blonde eyebrow lifted in askance, he added, “The, ah, city has a thriving Were community and I, I, think you can get the help you need.”

Denna simply sauntered closer, raising a hand to finger his collar, invading his personal space, making him very uncomfortable. “Are you trying to get rid of us already?” She playfully pouted. “And here I thought we were bonding?”

Dean thickly swallowed; he could feel a dribble of sweat as the female predator came closer. But he was saved when a voice echoed out. “Denna. Please stop playing with your ‘food.’”

Denna seductively chuckled, sending shivers down Dean’s spine. “F-food?”

Lightly tickling her nails along his neck, she felt her Alpha come up behind her. “No worries, I’m still _full_ from last night?”

 And with she winked, gently patted him on his cheek, making him flinch, before turning her back him to re-enter the bedroom, allowing Cara to approach. “You were saying about this… St. Louis?”

She too was naked; although her various parts of her body were decorated with bruises and scratches from her activities last night. Dean desperately averted his eyes to anywhere but the blonde in front of him. After all she was the Alpha. Nervously wiping his hand across his brow he answered.

“Ahhh, as I was, um, explaining, St. Louis has a huge Were—community and I think you’ll be able to get the help you need.” A few moments of silence met his statement, ratcheting up his anxiety. _He’s going to a spa after this_ , he thought.

Cara sighed before answering. “Fine. But first, you will get us some more food and clothing. And then I need you to set us up with someone who will help us navigate this…St. Louis once we arrive.” But then she too stepped closer, letting loose some of her Dominance. “If you cannot deliver these requests, then our stay will be much longer and I suspect much more agonizing for you.” She tilted her head in a way that made it seem threatening, as if she were accessing him as… meat. “Understand?”

His wife refused to have any dealings with their guests; however he suspected her self-preservation kicked in enough to not openly antagonize these women. Dean wished he’d been so lucky… how he cursed the night he stopped his car. “Understood.”

****

Her Tribe could barely contain their awe and excitement. Awe, over the amazing technologically advanced things they’d seen and excitement over the start of their new life. They could already scent _Others_ that smelled like them. Not quite, like them, but similar. Their Mord-Sith magic and Nicci’s sorcery could feel the energy sparking on their awareness, indicating all sorts of possibilities. They were all wearing clothing called jeans—apparently almost everyone had a pair. Raina was wearing a delightful t-shirt that had the word… Gamecocks and some numbers. Apparently, the first represented some kind of animal. Others had a long sleeve, textured shirt that fit too-snug against Denna and Rikka’s impressive breasts. Nicci wore a snug t-shirt with some kind lettering on it, spelled out Rams. Cara was wearing some kind buttoned-down thing that was made with the same material as her jeans. Dean was kind enough to give Cara some textured, green paper representing the local currency.

Apparently, they were headed to an area called the Blood District; supposedly it was where their… _kind_ lived. Cara rolled her eyes at that ridiculous name. Dean also gave a brief summary of how he thought things worked: there was the Master of the City, a Vampire, who functioned as a… leader of the Preternatural community, and he had underlings who helped him manage things. If you needed information, those were the people who could help. But Cara knew that things probably functioned the way she ran her Tribe: a game of _Dominance_ and _Submission_.  

 _Vampires_ , mentally sneered Cara. She’d only seen one during her travels as a Mord-Sith. They were believed to come from the Old World, meant to be set upon the kingdoms of D’Hara or the Midlands. But their magic was too powerful and too risky for the species, so they learned to stay low or never cross the barrier. Personally, Cara cared little where they’d come from.  Not to mention, she’d always thought they were a weaker form of some dark magic gone awry. Apparently in this world, they were a top predator.

For now they stopped in front of a place called the **_Lunatic Café_**.  _These people were as subtle as being kicked by a horse_ , Cara internally snarked. Nevertheless, the scents were stronger here, definitely less human, more feral, gamey. But there was also something else, a slightly too-sweet scent, along with a hint of ash and death. _Vampires_ , Cara guessed.

Dean looked over at Cara once he parked the car. “Ok, so the person you’re meeting with is a guy named Evan. He’s one of my former students; he’s now a grad student. He’s also a Were-Fox and he should be able to help you.”

“Well Dean, you have done as you’ve promised. But if this… Evan doesn’t… work out; we’re going to come ‘sniffing’ for you. And you **know** we’ll find you.”

So with that the Tribe proceeded to get out of the car, with Cara in the lead, and entered the café. The smells were almost overwhelmingly; a combination of a few humans, food, the sickly-sweet scent of the Undead, and stronger feral scents of Were. Nevertheless, the noise suddenly dropped as they walked, or more like sauntered in. They were met by a young, lanky, red-headed male, with freckles, and glasses tentatively approaching. He slowly drew near Cara, her Tribe protectively watching him and the surrounding patrons for any potential threat to their Alpha.

Nervously fidgeting, he fingered a curl from his forehead. “Umm, h-hello. My name is Evan, Professor Hawkins, ah, sa-said you need some help?”

Cara watched him for a few moments, watching him restlessly shift around; some unnamed instinct telling her to make sure Evan knew his place before they continued. So she allowed a hint of her Power and Dominance to leak through, like briefly opening an oven; a prickly heat washed over the young male, causing him to cower. His hazel eyes immediately dropped to the ground, he practically whimpered as her Power briefly washed over him.

“Evan. You’re going to help me, my Tribe. But first we need to come to an understanding.” Ignoring the captivated audience staring as the scene played out, a few of the Submissives from various Clans or Pards, wished they’d stayed home.

Others were too busy trying to figure out what Cara was; as for the Others, they could smell Bear, a… Tiger(?), but the rest were unfamiliar. There was a hint of Leopard, but **not** that same… There was the hint of something Aviary, but they were unsure, but nothing like the local Swanmanes. They were unsure enough that calls were already being made to their Alphas. Other calls were made to alert Micah, the leader of the local _Furry Coalition_ , and mate to Anita Blake, which meant the Master of the City would soon know. Since there was the scent of Wolf, a call the Ulfric was already being made. But it was the female’s Alpha that confused everyone the most. She smelled… the most unusual and no one could get a handle on her scent; just when someone would think she smelled like Wolf, the scent changed. It made everyone nervous, particularly because they too, felt the hint of Power she allowed out, and it was impressive.

So too, were the rest of the females in the group, who were busy watching them back. But they also gained the interest of creatures connected to various power-players within the preternatural community. A lieutenant for the Rodere or Rat King, Rafael, whose large numbers combined with a thriving security firm made them a power to contend with, was already dialing up his boss. Two other Weres, a Were-Leopard and Were-Wolf were already texting their Alphas. The Ulfric, the Wolf King, Richard Zeeman was in a Triumverte with Anita Blake, the famed Executioner (for Preternaturals behaving badly) and Master Necromancer. This also meant that Jean-Claude, Master Vampire and Master of the City – almost like a ‘mayor’ of the preternatural community, would be notified. Needless to say, within the hour all of these individuals will be aware of this group of female Weres.


	13. Chapter 13

Kahlan stepped out of the Range-Rover to greet the woman walking towards her. Slowly pulling down her fur-lined hood, she languidly approached the group of witches waiting near the entrance of the magnificent mansion. After a few months of traveling throughout Europe, first as a ‘guest’ of Paris’ Master of the City, followed by a visit with the Dragon in Florence, and then ending her ‘European vacation’ with Morgana in Wales, she finally arrived at the most important leg in her introduction-to-the-new-world trip. She was finally able to locate the Coven of her ancestors, long-removed from Europe to land in a tiny bayou town called Arnaudville, Louisiana. The coven, officially renamed the Coven of Arnaudville, was almost as ancient as the local Native American tribes.

It took a great deal of negotiation, along with proof of Kahlan’s ancestral connection to the founders of the coven, followed by months of waiting for them verify and cast complicated, ancient spells  to access Kahlan’s aura, before she and her entourage were granted permission to visit. Their car had passed through large wrought-iron gates, down a long unpaved single road, into a circular drives lined by two smaller buildings on either side, along with another smaller one closer to the gate, before finally stopping before the group of women standing in front of the main house.

The woman standing slightly ahead, at the top of the steps, wore a long flowing dress, her hair unbound and long; a brunette with streaks of silver throughout. The Power emanating from her was impressive, perhaps even giving Kahlan pause; the magical Power soaked through her skin like a eucalyptus vapor rub, making her shiver slightly and her nipples hard. As Kahlan drew closer, she examined the woman, apparently the leader, more closely. In fact, the magical signature was felt upon entering the town’s lines.

Kahlan inhaled the balmy, night air; heavy and thick with the scent of magnolias, and other unfamiliar scents. The sorceress stood against the backdrop of a huge white French Colonial mansion. Wide, sweeping, verandas, tall windows with delicate Spanish iron-work over the window, and like many historic Louisiana homes close to the bayou, it was surrounded, gently engulfed even, by the natural habitat. It was as if some invisible force field was holding back the encroaching plant-life, cultivated by the humidity and the bayou. Spanish moss grew thick and hung in long streams from every tree surrounding the building. Water gently cradled the back and halfway along the sides of the huge building, giving it an almost floating appearance. Some swore that when you were in bed, late at night, when there was little movement from anyone, the house gently… rocked like it was a ship at sea. Then there was the flooding on bottom floors every time there was a huge storm coming up from the Gulf, it left behind water marks a few inches up on the furniture.

The Arnaudville Coven in Louisiana was located in a hidden patch of land deep within the Louisiana bayou. A town that came alive twice a year as it played host to the Annual _Étouffée_ _Festival_ and the Bayou Blues festival.  It also prided itself on being one of the first in the area to be founded on the cultural blending of both its black, white and the few remaining Native Americans. However that didn’t mean it didn’t function like most Southern small towns. They may not have the Jim Crow signs posted everywhere, perhaps even be a few strides had been made, not to mention the heavily populated Creole (a blending of black, white, and usually native American) families that have lived here for generations, but that didn’t mean folks didn’t know their _place_.

Adding to the overall mysticism of this sleepy Louisiana town, more Spanish Moss dropped down thick and long from ancient magnolia trees, lining streets, providing perpetual shade from the steamy heat, and deepening the haze of shadows out in the bayou itself. The constant buzz of the cicadas and the air thick with the scent of magnolias that bloom during the evening, gave the small town a somewhat mysterious appearance particularly when the sun went down. They’d even run off the Catholic missionaries that took up residence in most of Louisiana, attempts to eradicate other missionaries from town, were met with curious, yet effective results. Sometimes, it was the more gentle approach in which an unwanted visitor completely lost sense of who they were or where they came from - a potent amnesia spell. The other the method was designated for those who actively meant them or the town’s inhabitants harm, they simply disappeared.

And all of this was fed by the center of Power in this town: the Coven.

For generations, the town and an occasional neighboring relative, who had need of a medical issue, or even miracle, perhaps wanting their stars read, the Coven the place for answers. Other times, it was someone who’d been afflicted with one of the many Lycanthropy diseases, hoping that Le Madame would give up one of their rarely-given potions. Le Madame, the Coven’s head, Madame Shota Leveau was even more mysterious than the surrounding landscape. They said her kinfolk came from across the big ocean, others said she was born from the bayou itself. It was also believed that she was ageless and had given birth to the famous Creole voodoo priestess from the Crescent City (New Orleans). But it was a town that even the most hardened Louisianan folks steered clear of or whispered about as local folklore. Even the Master of the City in New Orleans only sought out the assistance of Le Madame unless it was absolutely necessary, and only if she permitted her entry of Arnaudville.

With a population of less than thirteen-hundred, boasting itself as being one of the oldest remaining towns in St. Landry’s Parish, and so it was with this small somewhat unique town culture, that had taken notice of the gleaming, foreign car, driving slowly down its main street. Calls had already been made to the Coven’s leader. But letters, in exchange for favors, had been arranged in order for Kahlan and her small group to be received. This was a rarity. This was reported to be one of the most powerful Covens in North America and one that many wished to either under-study or join. But most were met with negative results. 

Because so little was known about this Coven, except that Power that thrummed through the earth into every Coven and magic user throughout the Americas during the solstices, coursing through their “Circles” and through their veins like whiskey in their veins, they were regarded as an almost mystical legend. The Lady, Le Madame Shota, stepped closer, tilting her head slightly as she took in Kahlan. Suddenly Kahlan felt a ‘push’ against her mental shields and knew it was the woman in front of her.

Lifting a well-manicured eyebrow, Kahlan broke the silence. “You know, it’s not polite to peek into people’s thoughts?”

“Kahlan Amnell. Or should I say the Warrior Mage? You have come a long way.” She stepped closer, smelling of spice, something nutty, and the bayou.

She lifted her hand, palm facing Kahlan and brought inches away from the Vampire’s chest. Kahlan stood unnaturally still, a sensation like heat spread outwards from between her breasts, to the top of abdomen, moving until it encased her breasts, her entire upper-body, her magic erupting underneath her skin as if her blood were suddenly coursing through her veins. Feeling her eyes tingling, Kahlan knew they were glowing, an iridescent blue, as she locked eyes with Shota’s own now completely onyx eyes, sprinkled with shimmering sparkles, resembling stars.

Her magic moved and bubbled every time Shota’s magic probed, caressed, and pushed with hers. If Kahlan needed oxygen, she’d be certain she’d be gasping for air. Everything around them disappeared and the only noise she could hear was Shota’s breathing, the blood thrumming through her veins, perking Kahlan’s bloodlust in a way she hadn’t felt in ages. She tried to pull away, but Shota, her own magic wouldn’t let her, in fact she couldn’t move. Her entire body tensed, her legs straight and stiff, until she was practically up on her tip-toes, her fangs digging into her bottom lip, cutting into it, until it began to bleed. But she didn’t bleed for long, the magic was too powerful, and the blood made it even more so. It was all the Vampire could do to not whimper, or show any more weakness than she already had, as the magic felt like it was tearing her insides asunder and putting them back together again.

Suddenly she felt another presence probing, from far away, the smell of thunderstorms and jasmine creeping into her nostrils, but as suddenly as it appeared, it was immediately pushed back. Kahlan swore she heard, as if from far away, a cry of rage or pain as result. Then as quickly as this experience began, it ended, causing Kahlan to stumble, her knees weakened, her body sagged with instantaneous relief. Strong arms caught her shoulders, holding her up. Kahlan felt slightly woozy, as if she imbibed too much blood, too quickly.

“It’s all right chérie. Come now, inside we prepared for ya.” Warm palms cupped her cheeks, gently lifting her head until she looked at Shota, who was smiling, her eyes watering with an unnamed emotion. “It sho’ has been a long time comin’.”

And with that Shota half-hugged her to help her up the stairs, the coven members, all staring with something like awe in their faces as they parted like the Red Sea, allowing the two powerful creatures into the home, with Kahlan’s stupefied entourage following behind.

Dennee desperately wished that Morgana was with them, to help explain what just happened. But for a few moments, both women appeared to have been encased by a glowing orb so bright they had to shield their eyes. Then there was the weird heat, it grew so hot, Dennee was sure her Vampire-skin would burn if she got too close, yet when she pressed her hand to the energy, an icy sting washed over her hand. Sharing a concerned look with Sergio, again cursing the fact that Morgana wasn’t here, even as Kahlan’s Second knew that bringing Morgana might have made the unique situation more… tenuous. Regardless if it might have given Dennee a sense of security. Luckily it appears that her Mistress was either unable or unwilling to tear the Sorceress’ throat out, which meant things were looking up. She hoped.


	14. Chapter 14

Kahlan sprawled comfortably in a comfortable, leather, wing-backed chair, before a huge, elaborate fireplace, an empty glass of blood sitting nearby. They were well-ensconced in a large, airy room that smelled of books, wood, magic. A well-polished grand piano stood in the corner, inlaid bookcases lined one wall, filled to bursting. Shota paced, with an open book in one hand, while the other gesticulated, as she passionately talked about magic, family, and history. Apparently the experience she’d recently undergone had a five percent survival rate. Three things were evaluated and then acted upon: the first, was to access if the supplicant’s heart was true, did the individual hold malice or evil in their heart, the second, determined if there were any ancestral connection to Shota, and the final analyzed Power. If the first two were answered incorrectly, then the individual would soon find themselves fighting for their very existence, to no avail.

The third allowed Shota to determine if this was the being would finally be the protégé she’d so desperately been searching for. Apparently Kahlan passed this impossible test. A knock on the beautifully-detailed pocket doors, caused Shota to pause in mid-rant. _Although it was an informative mid-rant_ , thought Kahlan. One of the younger witches entered.

 _Her Créole accent, combined with her old-world European accent, made for an interesting sound_ , thought Kahlan. Perhaps food had something to do with it. As she spooned the delicious-smelling stew in her mouth, humming in appreciation as the flavors washed over her tastebuds, Shota momentarily closed her eyes, wishing for some warm crusty french bread. “How is Morgana these days?”

Kahlan supposed she shouldn’t be surprised, she was quickly learning that this ageless-looking woman clearly had knowledge and information way beyond what most expected. For a moment Kahlan felt saddened, if Mother wasn’t such a psychopath, perhaps she would have matched this woman’s wisdom and knowledge. “She’s fine. I recently visited in Wales. She sends her regards.”

“You know, I tried to get her to come here. But dere was no movin’ her from dose green hills. Long ago, a lot of pain and sorrow seeped into dat dere ground. Some of it from her family, some of it from here.” She indicated the area around her heart. “But she always try to do right by her people… dey never did a whole lotta right by her.” Kahlan was captivated by Shota. She wove information like stories or riddles if she needed Kahlan to learn something. She patiently watched as Shota spooned some more gumbo.

“It’d give her a chance to heal, but she never believed she was worthy. Never believed she deserved to have that loadstone removed from her shoulders. Perhaps, one day you’ll be able to convince her.” She spooned some more. “Cause I suspect you’ll need her when you get to the Gateway up North, cause a whole lotta bad magic bein’ done up dere.”

 She paused again. “But your destiny is dere.  Your soul got some important dealins’ dere.” She lifted her head, locking eyes with Kahlan, who was frowning in confusion. “I ain’t never met a Vampire like you. Especially one got intimate dealins’ with Death herself.” She chuckled. “You wanna do bad, but your soul is… pure.”

Kahlan barely restrained herself from snorting in self-deprecation. “A pure soul? Me?”

“You misunderstand sugah. You strugglin’. On one hand your Vampire is a top predator, but only in its purest sense. Like an animal of da wild. The other, is yo’ magic. It too is a predator, seekin’ and knowin’ _truth_ , while bringin’ Light to darkness.”  Finishing her meal, she stood up, walked over to a stained-oak credenza, opening a drawer to remove an ornate dagger. Tensing, Kahlan watched as Shota walked over towards her, grabbing her wine glass along the way, until she stopped before Kahlan.

Kahlan frowned as Shota sliced her own palm and then formed a fist over the glass, her blood dribbling in, mixing with the drop of wine leftover. “Dis blood is for family and for magic. It give you Power. But it also give you responsibility. But you must train, you must learn, or it will consume you.” She suddenly gripped Kahlan’s wrist, her eyes intense, still their natural hazel color. “Do you accept?”

Kahlan knew this was a momentous decision, a fork in the road moment, even though the Vampire inside her railed against submitting to the Sorceress, the woman, the magic inside her was greater, and wanted family,  she wanted something… more.

So there was only one answer. “Yes.”

**

The next year was one of the most grueling years she’d ever experienced. She also got a chance to wrestle with an alligator before finally, draining it of its blood. Dennee claimed she looked like some kind of vengeful spirit when she stood up from the bayou, the water sluicing though her hair, and off of her wet earth and blood-stained skin. Shota was an impossible task-mistress; reading, researching, performing complicated spells, stretching mental muscles that actually caused muscle soreness. Luckily, Kahlan was found a willing _pomme de’sang_ ; a delightful Cajun Were-Hyena from Baton Rouge. Bronze skin, peppered with delightful freckles, with a hint of caramel undertones, long, silky dark hair, big, dark eyes, with a curvaceous, yet muscled frame, made for a delightful bedmate and blood donor.

Kahlan had already decided to make her a permanent part of her Brood, as her official pomme de’ sang. Her name was Garren and she was a student at Louisiana State University, majoring in chemistry, with a minor in interspecies biology. Plus she had some minor magic skills, making Garren a delightful addition to the gang. Not to mention, Kahlan loved tickling and finding all those delicious freckles peppered along Garren’s bronze skin. Presently, she was curled contentedly around Kahlan’s feet; post-orgasmic and post-feeding, made her as languid as a kitten in the sun. At the moment, they were riding in a luxurious all-black, with all the modern amenities, Mercedes mini-bus. They were finally making their way to St. Louis.

Kahlan managed to quell her feelings of… _loss_ as she finally had to say goodbye to Shota and the Coven of Arnaudville, whom she now considered her family. After several grueling months of reading, going from small basic spells to more complex spells, Shota declared that it was time for her “catch her destiny…” or something along those lines. One of Shota’s close-knit priestesses, named Mia, a ‘reader’ or “tells the truth of things,” another of Shota’s sayings, had finally determined that powerful things were in motion, and that it was time for Kahlan to be in play or there would be dire consequences.

No one was able to clarify what those ‘dire consequences’ entailed, but chances are when it involves Vampires, Kahlan knew that these dire consequences weren’t going to benefit them, and more than likely will be part of whatever problems arise. What did worry Kahlan was that her connection to Marmee Noir had been blocked during her entire time at the Coven. So it was with some trepidation that Kahlan was waiting for the inevitable contact and if she had been trying to connect with Kahlan, she was more than likely in a full-blown rage at having been thwarted from what she desired.

In this regard, Mother often resembled a spoiled (albeit psychotic) child, when something didn’t go her way. Kahlan hated that Mother had so little… control or reasoning when it came to her, a ‘favorite;’ she could make Kahlan’s life very, very difficult through their link. And considering what Kahlan has learned through her training with Shota, what she’s discovered about her innate magic, she knew her new unearthed Power would only threaten Mother. For now, Kahlan could only prepare and shield as much as possible from Mother. Shota gifted Kahlan with two talented priestesses, with their permission, to join Kahlan’s Brood; one, a mocha-skinned Were-Leopard named Maxine, to assist Kahlan if Mother launched a metaphysical attack, and the other, a blonde-haired, Blue Were-Tiger, named Honey, (apparently her parents were Hippies) to function as Kahlan’s magical regent, if she became indisposed.

Both had given a Blood Oath, swearing their allegiance. It also helped that Maxine and Dennee had become lovers. She also sent Sergio to New Orleans to select two additional Weres to function purely as muscle. Kahlan had not been disappointed; one hulking Were-Rat, named Oliver, with a rap sheet and desire to get out of his Bond with New Orleans’ Master of the City. The other was a tall and slender, Were-Wolf male named Michael, who was wicked with a whip, and loved knives. After Kahlan wrapped her hand around their necks, her powerful Coercion spell, which had been modified and refined under Shota’s tutelage, ripped open their link with any Alpha, overrode that link, uncovered all their secrets and desires, and made them hers.  

Obviously without certain _benefits_ since Kahlan had long ago given up sex with men. At the moment, Kahlan was busy discussing St. Louis with Dennee, Sergio, Maxine, Honey and Michael, with occasional input from Garren. Michael was driving, Dennee sat next to Kahlan, Sergio sat next to Honey, Maxine sat on Kahlan’s other side, next to the fully stocked mini-bar, complete with A/B positive (Kahlan’s favorite), and expensive bourbon, (everyone’s favorite). The entire interior was filled with leather and polished wood, completely tinted windows, and an inlaid-panel, hiding a flat-screen TV.  But it was the topic of St. Louis that kept her fascinated.

As her fingers combed through Garren’s silky hair, Kahlan needed some clarification. “So let me get this straight. The Master of the City, the infamous Jean-Claude has a Triumvirate with both a Necromancer and the Ulfric. Plus the Necromancer has developed a Triumvirate of her own?!”

Dennee was busy reading through the dossier provided by one of the Dragon’s lieutenants, through a Vampire from Belle Morte’s line. “Yes, I believe, through all the rather… paranoid reports from various Council members, that this Necromancer is developing powers similar to a…,” she frowned over the next part, “Living Vampire.”

“There have also been rumors that through the use of the Necromancer’s own powers are what have beaten several of the Council’s emissaries.

Maxine nodded. “Of course. The Necromancer’s powers are steeped in the dead and death magic is almost as powerful a blood magic, making her an adversary to wary of.”

Kahlan sighed. “Why does she have to be an adversary?”

At this point, Sergio’s deep voice echoed around the huge vehicle. “Because the Master will see you as a threat unless you commit to a Blood Oath and that would be beneath you.”

Kahlan barely managed refraining herself from rolling her eyes. “All these Power struggles are so ridiculous.” She held up a hand from Dennee’s penchant for lecturing her on not being naïve. “I know, I know, our world operates on the notion of Dominants and Submissives.” But then she grew silent, mulling over a growing belief burgeoning within her breast. “But there has to be more.” Laying her head back against the soft leather seat, she closed her eyes, as the smell of a sunrise approaching.

Without opening her eyes, Kahlan wanted to confirm something. “I assume we’ve made living arrangements? The idea of staying in a hotel will not only displease me, but also compromise my wish for a discrete profile. No need to announce ourselves any more than necessary.”

“If I may offer, the Master will no doubt, be already aware of your imminent arrival,” suggested the quiet Oliver.

“Ahh, of course. Well I suppose I’ll have to send someone ahead to formally announce our arrival, as well as, our intention for a **peaceful** meeting.” Opening her eyes, Kahlan lifted her head. “Contact Morgana and request her presence here. I suspect we’ll need additional Vampire reinforcements. But not too many, we wouldn’t want to signal other… intentions.” Flashing her fangs, she shared a grin with Dennee. After all, being locked up on guard-duty for centuries made Kahlan a rabble-rouser at heart.


	15. Chapter 15

Cara shared a feral grin with Berdine who happened to be running the closest to her. With a burst of Power and adrenaline, Cara shot off ahead of her, reveling in the howls and snarls, the scent of Wolf, and danger dancing on the air. The lunapar was up ahead, where she’ll be formally introduced to Richard Zeeman and the rest of the Were-Wolf Pack. Nicci suspected that he’ll attempt to Dominate her, or at the very least, force her to recognize him as her Ulfric. But he’ll find how difficult that will be, and of course, Cara being a Mord-Sith at heart, will wonder if it’ll be worth her time to take over the Pack.

She also had another advantage; other than Evan and their reluctant human Dean, and of course her Tribe, no one knew she was a Pan-Were. They had a **moment** when they met Anita Blake coming out of the Lunatic Café one morning.

_The small, dark-haired woman had been balancing a bag of food and two coffees, which almost found themselves all over Cara. Luckily balance and two inhuman women were able to avert disaster. But when Anita had briefly touched Cara’s forearm while attempting to balance herself, Cara’s Beasts began to twitch and move inside; she sensed Tiger, Wolf and…Vampire, from the female. When the woman paused in the midst of cursing, startled eyes found Cara’s, the scent of Tiger(s?) and Wolf emanating from smaller woman became stronger._

_Her own Wolf and Red-Tiger started to become agitated. They smelled another Dominant, invading Their territory (i.e. Cara), and weren’t liking it. It wasn’t until Cara saw the woman’s hand drift to her side, reaching for a gun, that she realized that she’d been growling. But before Cara could rein it in she felt Nicci approach, while two males walked up next to the woman._

_“If you Shift, we’re gonna have problems, and I can promise you I don’t like problems before I’ve had my coffee.” By the time the woman finished speaking, Cara managed to rein in her Beasts, who wanted to challenge this woman and her Beasts._

_Cara gave a slow sardonic grin, holding up her hands in a mock placating gesture. Because honestly she’d love a good fight – it’d been too long. “Now, now, no need to get your panties in a twist. It was a simple… **misunderstanding**.” It was also at this time, that Cara sensed the Power bubbling underneath this female’s skin. _

_The woman’s dark eyes grew colder and she started to step closer to Cara, eliciting the blonde’s own aggression, but was halted by the short male with the long, dark curly hair, and sunglasses. “Anita. Not here. I’m sure it was like she said: a simple misunderstanding.” He shifted his attention towards a now fully grinning Cara. “Correct?” Although the question was asked politely, Cara didn’t miss the hint of threat behind the words._

_Cara purposefully relaxed, not missing Nicci’s slight alarm through their Bond. She knew that when her Dominus relaxed, it usually meant mischief, which meant the chances increased for someone to get hurt. “I’m relaxed. It’s a beautiful morning,” she gestured around them, indicating the clear, sunny sky, “and we’re just havin’ a conversation.”_

_She started to step around the woman, Anita, but with preternatural quickness she snagged one of the coffees, which she’d come to really appreciate, eliciting a snarl from Anita. “Besides as a gesture of goodwill, I’ll take a coffee.” She took a sip, delighting in the increasing anger from a barely restrained Anita, “Next one’s on me.”_

_And with that she winked and strolled away, ignoring the cursing and heated exchange between Anita and her male friend, knowing that the next time they met, she might not go unscathed._

However none of that mattered as she ran. Her Wolf loved the freedom and exertion, while disdaining her nose at the weaker Wolves around her. The smell of earth, wind, and forest, plus a million other scents compliments of her Beasts, gave her a sense of exhilaration and a connection with her Beasts, even her Mord-Sith magic, unlike at any other time. The rest of Tribe stayed behind at their home, a once abandoned warehouse that they, with Nicci’s magic, converted into a livable space. Nicci, along with Evan’s assistance played something called the stock market, used magic, and was able to build a sizable income for them. They protested mightily Cara’s insistence that only Berdine, Raina, and she could attend these proceedings. But Cara gave the final word, informing them that a Wolves’ lupanar was sacred, and only those who were Wolves could enter.

So far, Cara only partially-Shifted, wanting to use every advantage as possible. She learned that not only was she Dominus, but that her fully Shifted form was bigger than most Were-Wolves. In fact, she had yet to come across one who had her size and strength. Of course, that could be fixed once she met Richard, the angst-ridden Ulfric. First, Cara had redirected the initial invitations to meet the Ulfric, and then sneeringly ignored the orders to present herself before the Ulfric. It was only Nicci and Denna’s suggestion that she know their potential enemy, plus she needed to ‘test’ out her Beasts, and what better way than to be introduced to the Ulfric.

It also helped that Rikka and Raina gathered intel about all the players in St. Louis, so it was through this information that she learned how… _disappointing_ this Ulfric was, especially given all his Powers. They finally came to a round clearing in the woods, almost constructed like an amphitheatre of old; smooth layers of dirt until in the center stood a huge chair. Cara could feel the thrum of ancient Power coursing through the dirt, Lycan Power, making Cara want to fully Shift.

But not yet.

She felt her Tribe members finally reach her side, the Power from the lupanar making them fully Shift. They weren’t Dominant enough to fight it, but were Mord-Sith enough to Shift back, which usually took no less than eight hours for those who didn’t have Alpha Power. Only those who were Dominant could partially Shift, the top dogs like the Ulfric could cause others to Shift. So while Cara considered him weak, he wasn’t one to lightly dismiss. Cara walked unselfconsciously naked through the throng of waiting Wolves, silent, alert, becoming Submissive under the new Power entering the lupanar. Cara had barely unleashed her Power as she slowly, languidly walked towards the admittedly handsome man sitting with negligent casualness in the chair. His own enforcers, which included a stocky muscular woman, a tall Asian male, and a lanky, muscular Black male, stood on either side of his chair, looking menacing, trying to intimidate Cara. 

Under normal circumstances, Raina and Berdine would be Submitting, but they also had the blood of Mord-Sith running through them, giving them an unusual perspective. Plus they were strong enough to be Cara’s enforcers. Hearing the crunch of bone and muscle clued Cara that her Tribe-mates had Shifted back. They finally stood before Richard, before one of his enforcers spoke up.

“You should be kneeling before the Ulfric,” stated the tall, black male.

Cara snorted, locking eyes with the burnished amber of Richard’s. “I kneel before no one,” causing Richard to tense, his eyes becoming more Wolf, anger darkening them.

“Do you not understand the traditions?” Richard had been having a rough month, this week was no better. The fracture between him and Anita grew greater, so that now he barely found himself in her presence. Ever since she formed her own Triumvirate with Damian and… _Nathanial_ , his rage knew no bounds at times.

Now he’d been hearing about this gorgeous blonde woman, whose Power he felt long before she entered the lupanar, whose exploits he’d been hearing about around the community, only to see she had no plans to submit to his rule.

 She interrupted his musings with an outright challenge. “Oh, I understand very well. My Wolf, or I, simply won’t accept you as my Alpha.” Cara’s comment elicited gasps and murmurings of outrage, and causing him to slowly rise from his seat.

Jamil stepped quickly in front of him towards to blonde in swift anger and outrage. “How dare you?!”

The blonde finally shifted her eyes from Richard, to focus on the Ulfric’s enforcer. Cara’s Wolf raged against Jamil, challenging her, attempting to intimidate her. Raina and Berdine wanted to intervene, their lips pulled back in a silent snarl, but they knew these next few moments were crucial in determining what Cara planned to do.

Cara allowed some of her Power loose, emanating from her eyes turning them an icy yellowish-amber, feeling her Power course along her bloodstream, into her limbs, her hands, skeleton and muscles, to partially Shift, making her taller, muscular, her hands shifted into claws, her teeth became long and razor-sharp. She stepped closer to Jamil, allowing her Power to wash over him, enjoying the way he trembled, the whimper involuntarily sneaking past his lips, as she pulled some of his Power from him into her.

Her inhuman senses detected muscles and bones crunching, tearing, and reforming as Jamil helplessly Shifted, mucous spraying out, landing on all-fours, panting heavily on the ground, at her feet. The huge Lycan whimpered, curling in on itself. When Cara finally looked up, Richard’s other enforcers were in a stare-down contest with Raina and Berdine, while Richard, who’d partially Shifted himself, stood there stunned, and now worried, right before the rage set in and grew.

Cara refocused her attention on the Ulfric. “You’re probably wondering what my next move will be. Whether I’ll challenge you or Submit.” Cara strolled over towards where the Asian male enforcer stood, casually dragging her fingertips along his tense forearm, walking closer towards Richard. “But the fact is we have a… conundrum.” She grinned. “Love that word.”

“I recognize that you ultimately think you’ll force me to Submit.” Cara’s eyes turned cold and hard, allowing her Mord-Sith heritage to shine through. “But I assure you that won’t happen.” She tilted her head, sniffing the waves of rage and Power flowing off of him. “Shall we give it a try? I get that sometimes ‘action speaks louder than words.’”

And with that she flew through the air, her clawed hands outstretched before colliding with Richard, her nails digging into his shoulder. They rolled to the ground, snarling, clawing, and biting until they came to a stop, separated. The two combatants once again faced off. Richard’s look of rage was met by Cara’s fierce look of pleasure, momentarily surprising him, until a fast blur of blonde hair and golden skin launched herself at him. Richard assumed that his Power, the magic of the Triumvirate, along with his belief that male Wolves, his size and muscle would trump a female Wolf (except their former psychotic Alpha and Lupa, Raina who was killed by Anita). But this Alpha female was proving to be every bit as Alpha as Raina was and that was beginning to worry him. If she decided to run her Beast through him, like some kind of metaphysical ‘wind-tunnel’ she’d know how… concerned he was rapidly becoming, and no doubt, move in for the kill.


	16. Chapter 16

Across town Anita was busy at her desk, cursing her boss for over-booking her once again. Nathaniel was sitting quietly and patiently waiting for her while she finished up her paperwork from her last raising-the-dead gig. She wished people who left money behind, would also leave air-tight wills so that she didn’t have to hear the infighting between relatives, and/or the ditzy, too-young widow. However, before she could level off another curse, a cold sensation centered in her lower-back, quickly spreading, wakening her necromancer Power… and her Wolf. And suddenly Anita was transported; her body felt as if it were floating, flying until she saw from high above that Richard was in a fight for his life against… a woman! She heard chuckling and a naked brunette approached her - Raina.

**_It looks like all of Richard’s sulking and pathetic whining has finally caught up with him._ **

How Anita hated when she awoke Raina. A sexual sadist, she’d run the Pack with an iron, blood-thirsty fist, and so many damaged Wolves were left behind as a result when Anita finally killed her. Richard included. Known for forcing Pack members and other Weres into making heavy BDSM films, or subjugating and humiliating them as a means of keeping them in line. Until Anita killed her when she attempted to make a snuff film: starring Anita. As a result of that and various metaphysical events, she’s become Anita’s _munin_ or spirit, and she tends to make an appearance when Anita needed either information or Power.  Sometimes she’ll make an appearance if it’s something pressing related to the Pack. In a warped way, Raina actually cared about the Pack, and didn’t consider Richard a worthy Ulfric. So she’d occasionally make an appearance to ensure Anita become involved if Richard was in Pack trouble, as he clearly was now.

**_I like his challenger. She’d remind me of myself, if I didn’t sense her strong code of honor… but she’s not from here_ ** **.**

Of course Anita only heard two things: Richard was being Challenged, a serious challenge from the looks of it, and Raina liked her.

_Let me go Raina. I need to help him._

**_Uh, uh, ah. This is an official challenge. You cannot interfere._ **

Both combatants were partially Shifted. The woman clearly knew how to fight from the looks of it. Anita watched helplessly as the woman flipped with a leg out, ensuring she kicked Richard under the chin, as she flipped up over him, to land smoothly on her feet behind him. A bloodied Richard, fell to one knee and instead of attacking him, the blonde watched, and waited. Anita frantically tried to call up Power through their Triumvirate to help Richard.

She heard Raina snickering. ** _You call on your Triumvirate, but I think the Challenger has Power of her own._**

They both watched as the woman tilted her head, her nostrils flaring as she scented the Triumvirate Power awakening in Richard. An icy sensation filled Anita, followed the by the rush of the _ardeur_. She hated calling on it, but she supposed it was better than being overwhelmed or surprised by it. It also allowed her to fall back into her body, only to see that she was on the floor of her office, in Nathaniel’s arms, his worried visage staring down at her.

“Anita! Anita!” When he saw that she was no longer starring sightlessly, her eyes blinking as she became conscious, her body tensed, and then he felt an intense warmth from her, leaking underneath his skin, taking over his senses. _The ardeur!_ Like a whoosh similar to fire racing down a tunnel, the _ardeur_ washed over both of them, eliciting shudders. Anita turned onto her stomach, the look of a predator becoming prominent

{Ma petite!} Jean-Claude’s worried voice whispered into her head.

Her back bowed as the _ardeur_ whipped over her, making her toes curl, her nipples harden. She crab-walked over to Nathaniel, pressing him down into the floor, mouthing aside his collar, to latch onto the hot skin underneath.

**

The _ardeur_ was unleashed, swirling down through the link like some kind of dark, electrical energy. It swept like an angry wind, exploding from within Richard’s chest, out into the immediate area. As had happened before, anyone standing nearby would be immediately swept up into. However, she wasn’t just anyone – Cara was Mord-Sith, imbued with her own magic. Powerful defensive magic that had the ability to ingest a spell and then turn it back onto its unfortunate victim, magic that had become more feral, instinctive since her transformation.

Inhaling the scent of blood, sweat, and Wolf, along with new scents: jasmine, rain, death, and… another Were(?), signaled the onslaught of the _ardeur_ , via Richard’s link with Anita and Jean-Claude. It rushed over her skin, making it feel as if it were stretched tautly, baking in the sun. The new magic curled, spread over her chest, tightening her nipples, until it coalesced into a ball of tension in her abdomen. She idly scratched the area, as she watched Richard sink onto all fours, his eyes honeyed-flames that bled into glowing blues. _Interesting,_ she mused internally.  

“Well, what do we have here?” She sipped the air through her nostrils, inhaling all the new scents, the magic. It was some kind of powerful sex magic, she surmised. She scanned the crowd of Wolves, many completely Shifted, the Alphas Partially-Shifted, and those closest to Richard and her, seemed to be feeling the effects of this new magic.

She sighed. “Well, I can’t very well fight you now. You start humping my leg and I can promise you, you’ll be hoping a certain body-part can re-grow itself.”

She turned towards her Tribe members. “At least he’s easy on the eyes,” she mockingly commented before returning her attention to the writhing Ulfric.

 

**

 

When Anita ‘saw’ that the blonde combatant seemed unaffected by the _ardeur_ , she felt… insulted, before quickly becoming enraged as the blonde adopted what she believed to be a disrespectful pose. Sneering down her nose on Richard, the blonde sauntered closer to him, squatted down, and then gripped his hair to sharply tug his head back. At that point, Richard attempted to explode from his position to either kill her or… fuck her.

The hard punch to Richard’s throat stopped him in his tracks, toppling on his back, as he began to choke. She then mockingly shook a finger at him as if he was a naughty child, before laying her hand on his chest. Then her eyes began to bleed a brilliant green, almost a glowing jade color. The effects of whatever she was doing trickled down their link to her, to Nathaniel, and Jean-Claude. It was if something had been sucked from the wrong vein, the _ardeur_ swelled and then dimmed like a weak light, before finally going out. It left her and Nathaniel gasping and shuddering on the floor, feeling weak as kittens.

She locked eyes with Nathaniel. “What was that?!” he managed to croak.

A frantic shout through her link with Jean-Claude clued her in on how worried he was. {Ma petite! What is going on? Are you all right?!}

After heavily swallowing a couple times, wishing desperately for some coffee and aspirin, Anita finally managed to respond. {Yes. I’m fine. I think Richard is in trouble.}

{I have already sent Jason, Asher, and Damien to the lupanar. Rafael is enroute as well.}

{Do you know who these women are?}

{I have been hearing reports regarding our new arrivals and have made the proper inquiries for them to appear before me. They have resisted. Our Wolf was to be our next approach. But that was before his latest… difficulties.}

Anita rolled her eyes. She knew what those difficulties were. They’d a huge row, which included Richard almost Shifting in her kitchen when he learned that Nathaniel was added to her list of lovers. He did some damage to not only her living room and part of her kitchen, but also ended up gouging two of her Leopard Pard members. He’d been ‘licking his wounds’ ever since, and not in a healthy, empowering way.

{Well as soon as I gather myself I’m going over there.}


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I SINCERELY apologize for the lack of timely updates. Along with RL issues, which have 'tested' my sanity, my computer and I were having "relationship problems." I'm still trying to rectify, so I try to write when and where I can, with the hope that things will be a little easier throughout this summer. Thank you for your patience and PLEASE feed the muse -- it keeps my muse content and happy.

Cara stood over the gasping Ulfric, her hand now petting his hair, exerting her Power over him, and in spite of himself, his Wolf found this Alpha equal, if not a tad superior. She looked out over the assembled crowd, her body-language arrogant. She allowed not only her new Powers to expand, but also her Mord-Sith Power to soak up the magic within the lupanar and Richard, the Power coating the link he was connected to. The Power swelled outwards, making the Wolves around her gasp, shudder, some even howled.

“From this moment forth, I am your,” she looked over towards Raina, who quickly whispered through their link the proper title, “Lupa. My might is your might. My Power gives you strength, fairness, honor, and justice.” She paused to let that sink in. “This Pack has grown fractious and weak. Your Ulfric has led you down this path. But he will help lead you back to greatness because I will help him. My word is his law and his law is my word.”

She stepped back and began to Partially-Shift. Her voice became gravely-growly. “This will not be a democracy. It will be my rule and your Ulfric will be my Regent. If you find that you cannot live within these rules, feel free to leave before I kill you. If you find that you can be a better ruler, then you may fight to rule. But know this: before you get to me, you must go through your Ulfric.” At the moment she was letting all of them know that the power-structure had shifted; even though Richard was still Ulfric, Cara had become the new Pack Leader, the Lupa.

Now she fully Shifted, growing bigger than any of the Wolves around her, blue-black fur spreading over her significantly bigger, muscular frame like syrup, until she stood a fearsome eight-foot Lycan, with jade-green eyes. The other Wolves lowered their bodies to the ground in submission to their new Mistress. They could feel her Power curling around them, through them; strong, warm, proud and ancient. Her Power didn’t have the taint of… evil? But Darkness? Perhaps. After Raina and her terrible Were-Leopard Consort, Gabriel, didn’t they all have some darkness? Perhaps they embodied what it meant to truly be… human; stripped of all the layers of civility, down to what made humans essentially animals.

But whatever _It_ was, it was pure and warm, not twisted like Raina or self-hating like Richard. It was… _home_. 


	18. Chapter 18

Cara sat curled up naked with her Tribe wrapped around her on the huge stack of pillows. Low-bass, thumping music played softly in the background. Several of Wolves found themselves back at their home, intimidating Evan who was hidden away in his room. Denna idly played with Cara’s hair, while Cara sifted her fingers through Nicci’s honey-blonde locks. Rikka was busy playing a game of chess with one of the new additions from the Pack: a young Wolf named Tobin. She had dark, fat curls, and big blue eyes, giving her a perpetually baby-face look.

Cara was interrupted from her musings by her Second, Nicci. “So what are you going to do?”

They’d been mentally discussing this latest… challenge. Cara was a Pan-Were, leading a group of her own, and now suddenly ruling the local Pack. A Wolf Pack intimately connected with the Master of the City and the largest Pack in the country. She was alerted earlier to these facts when she led the Pack on a run.

She’d smelled the Vampires before they landed. Tall, muscular, long-haired men, who apparently liked period-dress wear. The blonde one artfully kept half his face hidden beneath his hair, while the red-head had brilliant, glass-colored green eyes. She smoothly flowed back into her human form, mentally acknowledging her own Tribe members coming up protectively behind her. Richard stood panting next to her, still Partially-Shifted, wolf-eyed, his hands clawed and slightly furry, a light coat of fur flowed down his arms and along his shoulders.

The blonde cautiously approached blonde Vampire, pausing at the warning growl from Berdine. “I apologize for interrupting your run. But this matter could not wait. We are emissaries of the Master of the City, Jean-Claude. He is requesting your presence this evening.” The way he stated it indicated it was not a suggestion, but an order.

The red-head stepped forward with his hand outstretched, holding a card. “Please be at this address at 9’oclock sharp. If you need any assistance in getting there—“

Cara held up a hand, cutting him off. She allowed a little of her Power to flow out from her, her Mord-Sith Power. “You forget your place. You can request my presence, but you have given me no assurances that my people will not be harmed, nor have you shown me the respect of a Lupa.” She menacingly stepped closer. “How do you propose to rectify this?”

Richard, who had grown somewhat… _comfortable_ with Asher, Damien, and Jean-Claude, still enjoyed any opportunity for them to be taken down a notch. But he also knew that Cara didn’t fully understand how things worked. “Perhaps we can all meet at a neutral site?

Asher’s ice-blue eyes went blank, no doubt forwarding the suggestion through his link with Jean-Claude, who was also probably connected to Anita. When his eyes came back into focus, he managed to not convey Jean-Claude’s supreme annoyance at this turn of events, mostly due to the fact that an emissary of the Council was due to arrive any day now. Suddenly the shifting power structure of the Thronnos Rokke Clan became supremely inconvenient. Although Asher suspected that regardless of when this shift occurred it would not have been convenient.

 

***

 

Kahlan barely noticed the **_Welcome to St. Louis_** sign, she was busy feeding from her Pet. What was doubly distracting was the wetness coating her fingers, wedged between Garren’s soaked folds. Her tantalizing scent and powerful Were blood almost made Kahlan dizzy. However, what did catch her attention was the silent _thump_ of magical wards that they just passed through. The sensation was similar to the air pressure suddenly changing, causing your ears to pop. It made the tiny hairs along her skin stand up on end, eliciting a delicate shiver, and a clear warning to anyone who entered this territory that it’d been _Claimed_.

 _Well,_ Kahlan thought, either this was a warning to them or St. Louis’ reputation was well-deserved. Usually, an Emissary was sent to greet any new visitors, particularly noteworthy visitors. Delicately licking the remnants of blood around her lips, before looking down at her fingers stuffed inside a writhing Garren, Kahlan enjoyed the look of blissful lust on her Pet’s face. Leaning down, she lapped up the blood trickling from the wound on her Mark, while wiggling her fingers inside Garren. Reveling in the moans and cries of pleasure from her _pomme de’ sang_ , she allowed her magic to siphon off the lustful energy emanating from the other occupants in the vehicle; who were either busy watching, or engaging in their own intimate activities.

Through her training with Shota, Kahlan learned that she’d need to feed her magic via powerful energy emanating either from other magic users, the elements like earth or water, or through powerful emotions, particularly sexual energy. She suspected that she’d need all her resources and storages of energy full before dealing with whatever problem(s) existed in St. Louis.  However for now, she would enjoy the added benefits of succubi magic; swiping her thumb along the hardened ridge of Garren’s quivering clit. Her other fingers were busy massaging, twisting, and prodding her tight channel, excreting more fluids down her hand. Kahlan couldn’t wait to lap it all up. 


	19. Chapter 19

Meanwhile Kahlan’s entrance into St. Louis didn’t go unnoticed. The first was Jean-Claude, who was immediately alerted that the Council’s entourage had entered the city. The other was Cara’s sorceress, Nicci. The powerful Were-Blue Tiger-Sorceress had set up wards of her own; to notify her of any new powerful magic-users. She’d devised a map; but it wasn’t just any map. It allowed her to see any sentient beings in St. Louis and they were separated by species, and the most powerful. Humans were red, Weres were blue, Vampires were yellow, and magic-users were green. Masters and Pack-leaders burned brighter and bigger for each color. Leaders such as Jean-Claude, the irritating Anita Blake, Rafael, and Richard fell into this category. The map also measures Power and makes adjustments accordingly; which means any new Power fluctuation within the St. Louis territory, immediately ‘pinged’ on the map.

So when a ‘ping’ showed up indicating a new power player, a Master Vampire by the looks of brilliant Yellow, Nicci took notice. Tilting her head, she continued looking at the new power indicator before getting up to head towards her rooms. Each of Cara’s Tribe members were designated their own rooms, although Nicci’s was a tad larger to allow for a work-room. Potions, herbs, dried… _unidentified_ ingredients, books, jars of blood of varying species, a large work-table, as well as a computer, already gave testament to Nicci’s activities. Candles and other objects used for magic-making took up the space. If the smells didn’t give one a clue, then the strong warding that only permitted Cara entrance into the room indicated that the room practically reeked of magic.

In any other setting, Nicci would undoubtedly be head of her own Pride. However, she willingly gave a Blood-Bond to Cara, unbreakable only by death. Even if she was a Master Sorceress, in addition to her dominant Were Blue-Tiger nature, and her bond to a powerful Mistress, made her an impressive presence. It also made Cara even more powerful because Nicci was her 2nd in command. When Richard found that out, it immediately ruffled his feathers, causing him to… **test** her boundaries, trying to elicit submission from her.  He learned a very unpleasant lesson that day, one that had him healing for almost a week, and an angry Necromancer pounding on their door later on.

They could sense her powerful Death Magic even before she got out of the car. Anita Blake, practically glistened with weapons. Her Pard members and the same red-headed Vampire, Damian accompanied her, marching up to their door, demanding an explanation. But really she wanted retribution for what Anita believed to be an unwarranted attack on Richard. Nicci also sensed the mystical bond between Anita and the Wolf, which meant when she hurt Richard, it had to have stung Anita. Giving a mental shrug, as well as an eye-roll, Nicci regally stood before Anita. Curiously, she noticed that not only did the dark-haired woman smell of Death, Were, and Vampire, but that some of the Vampire scent was specifically her own.

She sensed her Dominus approaching along with the rest of the Tribe behind her. She suddenly held up her hand, startling Anita into blessed silence. “If you could hold it in for one moment, my Dominus will answer all your questions.”

Nicci gleefully watched as Anita’s eyes narrowed even further in anger, her male companions stepping closer in attempt to either calm or protect her. Nicci couldn’t be sure. Thankfully she decided to let Cara handle it. If **she** took matters into her own hands, blood would most definitely be spilled. And it wouldn’t be hers.

Even though Cara knew who Anita Blake was, she decided to irritate her further by pretending otherwise. “And you are?”

Anita stepped threateningly closer. “You know damn well who I am!”

She took a moment to calm herself, knowing she had a tendency to go off half-cocked. But she hadn’t survived this long without having some modicum of self-preservation. “First, you illegally take over the Richard’s Clan, only to attack him again, incapacitating him for almost a week! “

Cara negligently crossed her arms over her breasts, one hand came up to prop her chin as she stared contemplatively at the infamous Vampire Executioner. “You know they say you have more than one Were inside you. But… you,” Cara sniffed the air, “haven’t Shifted, have you?”

She started to slowly walk around Anita, examining her, her friends, before returning her attention to the indignant woman.

“But yet, you are a full-fledged member of the Pack, even played at the role of Lupa.” Gesticulating with her arms for emphasis, “Then you should know that as the **new** Pack Leader, Queen of the Werewolf Pack, that you coming into **my** home, insulting… no, practically challenging me, will not go well for you.”

She finally paused in front of Anita, who was busy moving her hands slowly towards her guns. “You don’t want to reach for your weapons.”

This time it was Cara, letting loose her impressive Power, allowing it to wash over Anita, her Pard members – Nathaniel, Micah, and the Vampire named Damian. Cara greedily watched as Anita tried to rein in control of something internal, while all but the short, curly, dark-haired male fell to their knees as Cara’s Power washed over them. Micah as Nimir-Raj (Pard leader) tried to resist; but Cara’s power washed over him like hot prickles. He gripped Anita’s forearm, trying to give her some of his Power. But then Anita remembered that she hadn’t had a chance to feed the _ardeur_ today even though she planned to. Unfortunately, this meant that when she didn’t feed the _ardeur_ it tended to involuntarily erupt during extremely stressful situations, and often when she could least afford it. Like now.

Like a rising wave, the power filled the air around Anita; her normally dark eyes became glowing blue-flames as her link to Jean-Claude slightly opened.

{Ma petite! What is wrong?}

But Anita was preoccupied and couldn’t answer. The _ardeur_ usually filled up the room, touching those in the immediate vicinity. Only Jean-Claude and of course, Belle Morte have the ability to feed from a distance. Had Anita managed to feed it today, she’d have been able to have some control over it. As it stood, Anita would be lucky if she left here without ending up naked in a roomful of women. Nathaniel clasped her arm, and like invisible smoke, the _ardeur_ reached over caressing its way up his arm, to his shoulder, enveloped his head, and began to fill his body. He let out a shudder that shook his body. Damian carefully wrapped his arm around Anita, snuggling his face into her neck, mouthing her skin; the _ardeur_ grew enveloping him. He grew firm, nudging her lower back, his breath felt like icy-fire on her suddenly sensitized skin.

Meanwhile Micah attempted to stand protectively in front of them, his dark, curly hair strewn around his shoulders and back, giving glimpses of his tanned skin; skin that suddenly looked too delectable for Anita not to have her mouth on. She found herself moving her hand from her gun, leaving it in its holster, to wrap around Micah’s waist, tugging him tightly against her. Anita nudged his hair aside so that she could nose her way to his skin on his neck. Her teeth began to ache with the need to bite down.

Cara watched the tableau, fascinated with the magic enveloping the room. Nicci and Denna stood on either side of her watching the proceedings.

“Don’t touch any of them. The magic is powerful sex magic,” declared Nicci.

Cara snorted, “They’re not my type.” she paused for a moment, considering. She looked at Nicci, “A succubus?”

But then the _ardeur_ grew, Anita growled at women, the interlopers, and the _ardeur_ swelled, tickling against Cara’s feet, trailing up her legs until it pooled in between them. Cara shivered because Anita had morphed the _ardeur_ to be less pleasurable and more painful, invasive sensation, hoping to incapacitate Cara and her Pride. The magic became a prickly pain, instead of the warm, taffy currently enveloping Anita, Damian, Nathaniel, and Micah.

However, Cara and Denna were still Mord-Sith, Nicci also had a bit of Mord-Sith magic, and her Dark, Imperial Order magic allowing her understand and manipulate most magic. So when the _ardeur_ attempted to wrap around them, Denna and Nicci gasped, their hair danced as if an invisible wind, goosebumps broke out over their skin, and their animals began to pace inside their metaphysical cages, wanting to be let out. Cara shivered deliciously as the magic washed over her; her nipples grew hard and her cunt moistened.

She idly scratched the golden skin near her cleavage, her eyes drooped in arousal. “If that was supposed to hurt, you’ll have to do much better than that.” she strode closer, smoothly and expertly swiping away a half-hearted hand-strike from Micah. Quickly she snaked her hand into his hair and effortlessly jerked him aside, as she swept his feet from under him. When he drunkenly landed on his knees, she stepped forward, her body barely brushing against Anita’s. Damian warningly growled, his arm possessively holding Anita, as he attempted to ward off Cara. The _ardeur_ moved, gliding like liquid silk against Cara’s Mord-Sith magic.

Anita struggled to gain some control, she didn’t necessarily believe she was homophobic. After all she had bisexual male lovers. It didn’t negate her hatred for the woman in front of her and her general discomfort around having sex with another woman. It was why she always surrounded herself with at least a couple of her male… _companions_ in case the _ardeu_ r struck, allowing the succubus magic to focus on them, rather than accidentally focus on any women in the vicinity.

Gritting her teeth, she attempted to move her head back, when Cara leaned in closer, her lips barely brushing against hers. Cara smirked. “Ahhh, either you don’t like women or you hate me more. I wonder which it is?” she mulled.

Although she wasn’t all that concerned with the answer, she’d make her point regardless. Luckily for Anita, she wasn’t Cara’s type, nor was she really attracted to her. Her attempt at bitchiness seemed more… vindictive and brittle – as if she was trying too hard and came off like a bully. Denna and Nicci pulled off ‘bitch’ really well, commanding and sexy. Two words that don’t come to mind when considering Anita Blake. Nevertheless, it didn’t hurt to have a little fun, especially if it sent a message. Cara always was a great multitasker. Seeing movement come at her from the side, she quickly lifted her arm, and had the male’s throat in her hand, squeezing off air. All the men were unable to do much as they drunkenly tried to defend Anita under the thrall of the _ardeur_.

Nicci stood back ensuring that there were no other magical attacks. Denna moved towards Micah and he once again found his hair gripped, being held in place by the paler blonde. “Perhaps I’ll take you as my Pet. Would you like that?”

Anita desperately fought her way to some kind of clarity and control, at least enough to verbally threaten. “Leave him alone you bitch! He belongs to me.”

“Tsk, tsk. No need to be unpleasant, after all you’re in our territory.” Denna allowed her eyes to bleed completely onyx, metaphysically swelling with the spirit of the Bear. “And you know what happens when you wander into a predator’s territory,” she moved with inhuman grace, tilting her head, staring at Anita, allowing the Necromancer to feel Denna’s Beast, “don’t you?”

Icy dread curled around Anita’s spine. She began to regret her impetuous actions. She should’ve waited for Jean-Claude to send back-up. Jason was a lot more… diplomatic. But whatever plan she was attempting to put together was immediately cut-off when Cara pressed her blonde forehead against Anita’s, her hot palms pressed against the dark-haired woman’s temples, and suddenly instead of steadily rising like a wave, the _ardeur_ exploded out. After that Anita saw nothing else.

Denna wrapped a supportive arm around Cara’s waist, lending her some of Mord-Sith magic, while Nicci contained the magical pull as others poured into the room. Anita had attempted to use the _ardeur_ like a weapon, but Cara managed to turn it back on her. Mord-Sith magic enveloped it, causing the morphed magic to slap down on the room’s occupants like a churning tsunami wave that had risen up only to have a wall of water slap down upon an idling sailboat. Cara, Denna, Nicci, along with Rikka and Raina shuddered as if they were having an orgasm – for the former Mord-Sith women, they likely were. Berdine had tagged along with their Were-Fox servant, Evan to the store, felt the effects in the car, as the first wave of echoing magical backlash skimmed over them, causing both of them to shiver in the passenger seat.

Since their… ‘guests’ were unfamiliar to Mord-Sith magic, the resulting magical clash knocked them out. Any Submissives like their Were-Fox, who were in the city felt the effects; Beasts were pulled from their human sheath, causing them to forcefully Shift. Even miles away, Richard was knocked unconscious. Jean-Claude fought the wave of prickling, powerful, painful-pleasure magic that seemed slightly familiar to his incubus magic, but not. Jason and Asher felt the prickling backlash as well, but were busy tending to Jean-Claude. Both men felt themselves hardening, accompanied by blood-lust during initial wave, while Jason began to violently Shift. All around them, Shifters and Vampires were experiencing the same sensation.

Master Vampires were able to curb their instinct for bloodlust and attempted to coral the weaker Vampires from acting on their heightened instincts. All around the city, the morphed _ardeur_ echoed out, pulling beasts from their human skin. The further away they were from Jean-Claude or Anita, the easier it was to fight it. Unfortunately, some weren’t able to and were ‘outed’ as a result. And when the magic finally trickled away, many Vampires found themselves on the receiving end of an enraged human or Shifter. The Lycanthropy disease was often discriminated against; people lost jobs, relationships were ruined, and families were torn apart.

By the time it was all said and done, as Master of the City, Jean-Claude’s problems had just increased exponentially. 


	20. Chapter 20

Kahlan shivered deliciously as the unknown magic washed over her. “Did you all feel that?” she chuckled, as she took in the tousled occupants of entourage.

They had pulled over when Kahlan sensed the powerful magic sweeping across the city. It wouldn’t do to be in the grip of it while driving. She had Weres driving both cars; having them Shift while driving would have been disastrous and more than inconvenient for Kahlan. Dennee was busy lapping at the re-opened wounds on her Pet, Maxine. Honey, the Were-Witch, had Partially-Shifted, Kahlan used her magic to prevent Honey from fully transforming. It was weird enough that they also had a Partially-Shifted Were- Blue-Tiger. Maxine, Oliver, Michael, and Sergio were Alpha enough to only Shift their hands and eyes. Maxine and Honey also helped in keeping their Shifters from fully transforming, even though Honey was a submissive.

“Well, I think we should make visiting Monsieur Jean-Claude one of our first priorities. But first, Dennee please locate Morgana and have her meet us at our hotel. And then I would like you, Sergio, Oliver, and Maxine to personally notify Monsieur Jean-Claude to prepare to receive us later on this evening.” Kahlan casually crossed her legs, still enjoying the tang of Garren’s blood and cum from their earlier activities.

“I think it was some kind of sex magic,” pronounced Honey.

Kahlan snorted. “Well that is quite evident my dear. The question remains, who was powerful enough to spread the… ‘joy?’”

Oliver and Michael were stable enough to continue onto their next destination. Even though Kahlan did not want to spend one moment in a hotel, for two nights she could suffer through. At least, until the paperwork on their property could be finalized. Luckily, the only five-Star hotel in St. Louis that was discreet, and could also accommodate various… species was the Ritz-Carlton. They’d already reserved a set of suites for Kahlan and her entourage. Less than two hours later Kahlan was well-ensconced in a luxurious bubble bath. Honey was busy brushing Kahlan’s lush, sable curls. Garren was perched on the side of the huge tub, painting her toe-nails. A knock broke the contented atmosphere.

Michael peaked his head in. “Pardon me, but Morgana has arrived. Would you like me to send her in?”

But whatever her response would have been, was interrupted when a dark head poked around Michael’s body. “Well, well, well. If I’d known that this is the kind of service found in the States, I might have joined you sooner.”

Tinkling laughter and an eruption of water, found Kahlan effortlessly gliding gloriously wet and naked towards a cheeky, yet happy Morgana. “You never did stand on the social niceties.” She engulfed Morgana in a hug, which allowed Morgana to grope a deliciously formed bottom.

Shaking her head in fond exasperation, Kahlan stepped back, checking over her General. “How was your trip?”

Morgana helpfully wrapped a luxurious bath towel around Kahlan’s torso. “Dreary. I should have taken you up on your offer of the private jet. But you know I like to… _test_ myself on occasion around the humans.”

She followed her Mistress out into the well-appointed suite and parked herself in one of the plush chairs. The Vampire-Sorceress patiently waited to be formally introduced to the new additions to their Clan. The two beautiful women followed them out, fussing over her Mistress, pouring her a glass of spiced red wine, while another began to rub specially-made oil along Kahlan’s skin. A glass was politely poured for Morgana as well. As she watched the gentle sway of the petite woman, she delicately scented her, trying to gauge her Were species – she’d already guessed both women were Weres. And yet, both gave off another unknown scent underneath their Beasts.

“What kind of Were are you?” she asked Honey. Morgana realized that she was slightly trembling and stifled the urge to provoke what she assumed, delicious fear from Honey. After all she **was** a Vampire and the little Were smelled intoxicating.

Keeping her eyes on the floor in an act of submission, Honey peaked at Morgana’s face before answering. “I-I’m a Were Blue-Tiger, ma’am.”

Rolling her eyes, Kahlan continued to enjoy the attentions of Garren. “Stop poking at the animals in the zoo. No offense darlings.” Garren chuckled in response, while Honey simply blushed. “Garren here, is a Were-Leopard.” She smiled anticipating Morgana’s reaction to her other announcement. “But they are also Witches from my ancestors’ Coven and Garren is my _pomme de sang_.”

Morgana hummed, before touching the tips of her fingers underneath Honey’s chin to tilt her face to hers. “Tell me, do you enjoy serving your Mistress?”

“I-I… you’re both legends. And… and I wanted to learn from you.” She momentarily raised her big golden eyes, before once again blushing, and immediately lowered them from Morgana’s penetrating gaze. “Yes. It has been more than I imagined.” she stated earnestly.

Morgana found herself petting the young woman’s fat, honey curls. “Perhaps I can convince our Mistress to have you serve as an apprentice at my home.” She found herself smiling as she began to realize that the young Were was trembling from excitement.

“We’ll see Morgana. In the meantime, have you been briefed by Dennee?”

“This city is becoming quite the topic of interest among our kind. So I admit I was already quite interested. Belle Morte is worried that the fruits our labor will prove more bountiful then all her efforts.” Their eyes met in shared amusement.

“The paranoia of Belle Morte is irrelevant at this point. We may be forced to deal with _it_ later. In the meantime, we need to prepare to visit Monsieur Jean-Claude, and more importantly we need to discern from whence the powerful sex magic originated from. I assume you could still sense it?” Next to Kahlan or Shota, Morgana was one of the most powerful mages she’d ever come across.

“Like I said, this city is becoming more and more interesting. Perhaps if we do not find our answers from Jean-Claude, we’ll look elsewhere after our visit.” Kahlan knew what she meant: every magic practitioner left a signature whenever they do magic. Therefore, if one were powerful enough, or had access to powerful magic, one could do a trace. With four magic practitioners and two of them master-level mages, it should be no problem finding their culprit.

“What will be determined is if Jean-Claude or any of his servants have any knowledge of this magic and if he was a willing participant in this magic. Or he has no knowledge, which would present some problems for him. Either way we, once determined we will be able to assess his power-base. Regardless, I am almost positive our untimely arrival will prove to be an inconvenience to him.”

Kahlan asked about Morgana’s 2nd and Consort, Athena. “Ah, she is retrieving additional Vampire lieutenants. They should be here soon.”

Kahlan frowned. “Are they of the Kiss or Blood-Oathed?”

“They are of our Line.” Morgana smiled. “After all, it became rather lonely during your… extended duties.”

Kahlan chuckled while shaking her head. “Only you Morgana can get away with being this cheeky.”

 


	21. Chapter 21

Later, Kahlan found herself sitting before her entire entourage, including the new additions. Morgana stood next to her chair as befitting her station, with Dennee on the other side. “In ten minutes we will be visiting the Master of the City. But before we leave, I would like to formally introduce our newest members, and go over any last minute details or information before we enter a potential enemy-territory.”

She motioned to the new additions and watched the three Vampires step forward.  A tall, lithe blonde woman with her hair in a long french-braid, stood next to a slightly taller, yet curvaceous swarthy-skinned brunette. Her hair was cut into a short stylishly-tousled look. And finally, the tallest of the bunch, was a broad-shouldered male, with a military bearing. His salt-and-pepper hair was cut in a very short caesar-style cut. All three started to kneel before Kahlan with their heads bowed in respect and submission.

 Morgana gestured towards the trio. “I present the additions to our Kiss: Dahlia, Trianna, and Gerard.”

Kahlan gracefully stood before them. “Do you swear to serve me and accept my will?”

After a response of ‘I do’ Kahlan began to finalize the brief formal ceremony.

“Know that taking this last step will link you to me, our _Kiss_ ,and the great Mother of Darkness. Do you swear an eternal Blood-Oath to these vows and should you dishonor this vow, you will cease to exist?”

Once the supplicants avowed their commitment, Kahlan lifted her hand, and with the sharpened nail of her pinky finger, cut a slit along her wrist. Blood began to trickle from the wound, as Morgana held an ancient cup they used for Blood-Oath ceremonies underneath the dripping blood. Once a sufficient amount was leaked into the cup, the cup was then passed to the supplicants to drink. Each felt the powerful blood tearing through their veins like potent moonshine. But each had to bear the sensations stoically, even though they barely restrained themselves from gasping as the immediate sensations tore through their bodies. The blood was similar to their Sire’s Morgana, but much more potent.

The sensations then morphed, becoming thicker, swelling their veins, and momentarily causing their hearts to beat. Then the magic began. The hairs on their bodies stood straight and danced as if they’d just been plugged into an electrical source. The air around them shifted colors; a tinge of technicolor-blue, the air became dense and thick around them, as the magic from the blood sipped up the energy in the immediate vicinity. Kahlan and Morgana slightly shivered in response. Once the sensations tickled away, one by one, each vampire stepped forward, offering their neck to Kahlan, completing the Blood-Oath bond.

Delicately swiping a trickle of blood with her thumb along the corner of her lips, Kahlan nodded and then smiled.

“Welcome to fold.” She then motioned Dennee forward for a report.

“So what is Monsieur Jean-Claude up these days?” A perfectly manicured eyebrow lifted in expectation.

“Well, it’s interesting because he tried to hide his… disconcertion. My guess is that one, he’s not used to… _polite_ ” Dennee smirked as Kahlan rolled her eyes in amused exasperation, “greetings from our brethren at the Council. And two, the magic didn’t come from him or his people, because even though he attempted to hide it, I sensed concern and bewilderment when I questioned him about the magic.”

Kahlan grew pensive as she considered the situation. “Well it’s clear we have to leave soon. The more we continue to catch him… _disconcerted_ , the better read we’ll have on the situation.”  Morgana, Athena, and Dennee followed her to her room, along with Honey, Garren, and Maxine. “Honey and Maxine will stay here and work on the tracing spell. Garren will accompany us to Monsieur Jean-Claude’s lair.”

Honey and Garren helped her dress for tonight’s events. Morgana was already dressed, while Dennee and Maxine shared a deep kiss, which Kahlan knew would be followed by the Were-Lion donating blood. After all, Maxine wanted to ensure that her lover would be well-fed for tonight’s visit. Kahlan enjoyed the beautiful contrast of Dennee’s pale skin to Maxine’s beautiful mocha skin pressed together.

Athena had been busy enjoying a cup of spiced wine and blood, while running her fingers along her lover’s neck. “Were you able to gauge the strength of his lieutenants?”

“Asher was in attendance. But he too was busy shaking off the effects of the spell. As was Requiem, no doubt quoting tiresome poetry. I wonder if he’s still with that viper, Meng-Die?”

Kahlan was surprised. “So many of Belle’s favorites. No wonder she has been restless.” Then she remembered that Requiem had the ability to raise lust. “Did the magic come from Requiem?”

Morgana answered this one. “I doubt it. The… _flavor_ was all wrong. And it was an echo of an original spell; a powerful echo, but one nonetheless.”

Kahlan snorted. “No wonder he is so worried. Having such powerful magic released and having no knowledge of its origin makes Jean-Claude appear weak.”

Suddenly this visit was becoming all kinds of interesting. Doing the dirty work of the Council was tiresome, yet essential. But Kahlan was the **Hand** of the Council, appointed by Marmee Noir. That gave Kahlan a level of power most coveted, but none have. “Fascinating. Please let everyone know we leave in fifteen minutes. Dennee, you may select one of our lieutenants, except Sergio, to stay here to guard your lover.” She allowed Honey and Garren to finish fussing over her. “This is St. Louis, home to an increasingly powerful vampire that seemingly threatens the Council. We must be prepared for anything.”

Dennee followed that up with the information she gathered regarding Jean-Claude’s inner-circle, including this Master Necromancer and human servant, Anita Blake. What was also surprising was the recent turmoil at the local Were-Wolf Pack, and the third member of Jean-Claude’s triumvirate, the now former leader of said Wolf pack, Richard Zeeman. 


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Please don't hesitate to feed the muse. Thank you, everyone for letting me know you're enjoying this story. I apologize for the delay, but between RL and a computer on-the-fritz, it's been difficult to update. Nevertheless, I hope you like the latest entry.
> 
> **LOTS OF NAUGHTINESS AHEAD: MIGHT NOT WANT TO READ AT WORK!!!

Jean-Claude was busy feeding from Jason, his _pomme de sang_ as he waited for Anita and her entourage to arrive. Asher stood perfect and still near the fireplace, while the Rat King, Rafael sat calm and collected nearby. He’d brought extra security for tonight’s visit by the Council representatives. They’d been somewhat surprised by the initial contact from the Warrior Mage, via her emissary Dennee. She’d been surprisingly… pleasant. There were no nasty surprises hidden upon her person, or among any of the other guests accompanying her. There were no horrific demands or casual threats; simply reasonable, polite requests for their Mistress’ visit. In fact, the woman seemed disconcertingly relaxed, if seemingly amused at Jean-Claude’s expense as she inquired about the unfortunate (for him) echo of magic rebounding around the city.

She didn’t even appear to be remotely concerned that he might be lying to her or hiding something from her, which worried Jean-Claude. Did they already have access to sensitive information? Or were they unconcerned because they had plans for them and had the power to back it up? Once again, he silently cursed both Anita and Richard for making their lives more difficult, as well as creating an uncertain power base on the day of the Council’s arrival. The door opened, allowing the somewhat volatile Meng-Die.

“The Wolf has arrived.” She sounded bored, but one can never be too sure with her. Meng-Die was powerful enough to challenge him for Master of the City, having her serve as one of his lieutenants strengthened his power.  But the fact that she strongly disliked Anita made Jean-Claude’s life difficult. Today’s events could very well incite her to act against him.

Her appearance was deceptive. Short, seemingly delicate, and beautiful, she hid a strength that threatened even Jean-Claude. In addition, she was an accomplished fighter and battle strategist. Some Vampires like Damian, no matter how old they become, will never become a Master Vampire; their inner-predator would always be more submissive and weaker than a Master vampire. Meng-Die’s inner predator, similar to Jean-Claude, was very strong. Akin to the sensation of walking down the street and for no reason something causes the hairs to rise up on one’s neck, or during a conversation with someone high up on the predator food-chain begins to emanate a quiet, disconcerting menace, making you, for no apparent reason become instantly wary.

When being aggressive and threatening, Jean-Claude and Meng-Die created these sensations, times ten. Consequently, Meng-Die threatened her former Master of the City, so he “loaned” her to Jean-Claude. Chances are, Jean-Claude would have to reconsider some future actions before Meng-Die became a serious problem. Requiem, one of his vampire lieutenants was her lover before he ditched her to become one of Anita’s consorts. Naturally, that increased Meng-Die’s hatred of Anita.

“Send them in.” He mentally reached out to Anita.

{Are you close, ma petite? And are you sure you are suitably calm enough to be here?}

Anita, arrived somewhat paler than normal, was still reeling from the effects of the today’s events. She was trying desperately not to think about it, the utter humiliation, the… sensation of being taken down a few notches, was only mitigated by the fact that only her most trusted friends knew about it. When she’d finally come to, she’s awakened naked on a bed, her hands and feet tied together, with a thick vibrator lodged deep inside her weeping cunt.  What made the situation even worse was the fact that Cara was also naked, calmly sitting nearby, amused as she stared at Anita’s predicament.

_The blonde looked like a lazy cat, content, sunning itself in the chair. She leaned forward towards Anita, who was desperately trying to not moan at the sensations wracking her body. “It is rather unpleasant to be forced to feel sexual stimulation, isn’t it?”_

_“Don’t get me wrong, next to fighting or ruling, fucking is one of my favorite things to do. I simply didn’t care for the… distribution.” Anita’s body jerked as an orgasm raced through her body, her sensitive tissues becoming even more so._

_She warily watched as Cara stood up and sat next to her on the bed, her expression pleasant and unreadable. The blonde then quickly snaked her fingers in Anita’s sweat-soaked hair, and jerked her head up. “But here’s the thing; you attempted to attack me and mine today. And I do not dismiss that lightly. However, I am willing to… allow you and your Master of the City to make recompense. I’ve been in enough wars; I have no interest in becoming involved in another.”_

_Cara’s expression turned hard, her hand tightened in Anita’s head making it painful. “But know this, the next time you attack me and mine, you’ll find yourself being double-fucked, by two women, while getting smothered by my cunt. And you’ll continue to service us until you cannot walk again so by the time you’re released, your body will be made to respond to me like some kind of Pavlovian dog.”_

_Releasing she stood up. “In case you’re wondering if I can ‘pull the trigger’, understand that in my… former life, it was my job to break people, and I was one of the best.” She sauntered towards the door, but paused before she opened it. “Tell your Master we’ll be dropping in tonight and then we can talk about repayment then.” She opened the door, Rikka stood nearby at the ready. “Rikka here, will help you out. “_

Needless to say, Nathaniel could barely restrain himself from fretting over her, while both Micah and Damian steamed over the fact that they were unable to protect Anita. All of them swore to let no word about today’s events to be spoken. Not even to Jean-Claude. Anita would handle Jean-Claude. So now it was Micah, Nathaniel, Damian, Cherry, Zane, Caleb whose hair was now colored blue, and Merle, Micah’s bodyguard, were all piled into two cars, heading over to Jean-Claude’s.

Anita knew that Jean-Claude was furious with her, with Richard not far behind. Personally, Anita didn’t think Richard counted since he already handed his balls to Cara. However, she knew that had to somehow fix this. The problem was she had no idea how or when. She could only hope to prevent any more nastiness during the latest Council visit. 


	23. Chapter 23

If Cara had the presence of mind to thoroughly enjoy the irony, then she’d no doubt have a good laugh at Anita’s expense. Currently she was on all-fours, with Denna behind her wearing a nice-sized phallus, or as they say in this world, **dildo,** and was busy cork-screwing it in and out of her ass. Underneath her, Nicci was slowly working another thicker dildo in her soaking cunt, while lapping up her juices, and nudging her clit. If that wasn’t enough, Rikka was perched lewdly in front her, her cunt spread like a lush flower, held open with Cara’s fingers. What Anita didn’t realize was that the recycling of her succubus magic, now part of Cara’s Mord-Sith magical core, didn’t negate the effects felt by Cara.

In fact, sex was an integral part of the Mord-Sith magical arsenal – it was just slightly edgier. Hence the reason why she was currently being stuffed to almost hurting, the dildo in her cunt so deep it was nudging her cervix. The sting of the cock in her ass because Denna was showing her no mercy, made Cara rhetorically question if she’d be able to sit comfortably anytime soon. Meanwhile, she was enjoying the tangy, almost briny-sweet taste of Rikka. She stretched out Rikka’s labial lips, accentuating, almost pushing out the blonde’s pulsating red clitoris, Cara worked her tongue up to swirl around the quivering nub, groaning as Nicci churned the girl-cock in her pussy. The Mord-Sith succubus magic continued to build; beginning in Cara, caressing Nicci, filling Denna, curling around Rikka, while Raina and Berdine were engaging in sixty-nine nearby. Cara could hear the delicious sounds of slurping and lapping from nearby, she also reveled in the smells and sounds of female arousal filling the room.

When Denna began to pick up the pace, Nicci lightly gripped Cara’s clit between her teeth while firmly working the girl-cock in her pussy like churning butter. She was riding the delicious edge of pleasure and pain, the sensations more brilliant as the magic began to reach a peak. Cara knew it was going to be a big one. She plunged her tongue inside of Rikka, enjoying the way her honey-walls squeezed around her organ, as she cried out, gasped, and moaned in ecstasy.

When Nicci began suctioning on her swollen clit, Cara knew she wasn’t going to last much longer. So with that, she set in for some intense tongue-fucking while using her other hand to pinch and roll Rikka’s throbbing nub. The ridges of Denna’s dildo exquisitely scrapped against her tender anal wall, as she seemed to nudge her g-spot from the other side when she bottomed out. The tension, the magic continued to build, coming together like a two forces meeting at an apex, only to clash, exploding outwards. Cara barely stopped herself from biting through her tongue that was lodged deeply in Rikka’s cunt while the blonde screamed out, as the orgasm and magic blew out from Cara to sweep through everyone in the room.

Even some of their Wolves lounging in other rooms and their Were-Fox shivered from what felt like a mini-orgasm sweeping through them. Had Cara not had the powerful magic users in the immediate vicinity, the backlash would have spread even further, and the others who weren’t directly participating would have had more intense responses. Nevertheless, Cara was more than ready for tonight’s festivities; some women go to a spa, Cara preferred sex.

 

***

Richard, Jamil, Sylvie, and Shang-Da walked in, trailed by some of Rafael’s Rat’s, including Anita’s personal bodyguard; a huge, muscular woman named Claudia. Most of his Were-Rats were former military or special-forces, add the sizable number of Were-Rats in St. Louis, and it made Rafael a power to be reckoned with. As part of being allied to Jean-Claude, he provided security to Jean-Claude, Anita, and sometimes Richard. Richard knew that everyone wanted to know the recent changes going on with the Pack and if he was still in-charge, even though they now had a _Lupa_ or Queen. However, Cara wasn’t just an ordinary Lupa and she’d already indicated that unless she specifically required it, he was to continue to present himself as the leader of the **Thronnos Rokke Clan**. She also ordered that she would be here to explain the new… hierarchy.

He knew that she was supposed to be in attendance tonight, already adding to the complexities of this evening’s events. He sincerely hoped that she… behaved; unlike Anita who was tightly wound, ready to explode at the slightest insult, Cara preferred to instigate and provoke. Luckily it appeared to be mostly harmless and not malicious. _As if keeping Anita out of trouble wasn’t enough_ , Richard internally grouched. Aside from Marcus, almost all the Wolves loved her and many of the submissive wolves were looking to petition for protection from either Cara or one of her Wolves.

Richard sincerely wished he smoked pot because if ever he needed to keep calm, it’ll be in this cauldron of madness tonight. 


	24. Chapter 24

The huge room was set up with two large L-shaped sofas, to form a _U_. Plush, large sitting pillows were placed on the floor, around a long, onyx coffee-table. Off to the side of this area, was a dining area with several high-backed Louis IX antique chairs in the middle was a long, highly-polished mahogany table. Gold-plated place-settings were equally spread out along the table. Pitchers filled with special blood-wine sat at varying intervals, easily accessed by gold-accented wine-glasses, along with a fruit, and cheese platter, and other assortments were carefully set out to appease all the species attending. Jean-Claude was currently talking with Anita. It was clear that something occurred between ma petite and this Cara person, and that it still being felt by his Human Servant.

But she wasn’t the only one; Damian looked… pained, as if he swallowed something truly unpleasant and he was still feeling the effects of it. Nathaniel barely restrained himself from clinging to Anita’s side; Weres were very… _how does Anita say it_ , he wondered, _touchy-feely_. They used touch to comfort, to sense emotions, even to heal. He was finally pulling the information from Anita, but it was very difficult, she was proving to be very reticent. She was unable to appreciate that in order for him to make informed decisions or take certain actions, it was imperative that he have as much information about Cara and her people as possible. He understood that she was still feeling… unsettled. But they all were and he also couldn’t ignore the fact that _Anita poked the animal first_ , Jean-Claude watched as his dark-haired lover brooded enough to even give their Wolf, Richard a run for his money.

He also didn’t want to have to pull the information from her head; she’s notified him in no uncertain terms that she wanted no intrusion into her head without her express permission. She got that enough from either Belle Morte or Marmee Noir. Jean-Claude barely restrained himself from giving into a very human reaction like sighing, as he watched a muscle bunch in Anita’s cheek.

“Ma petite. You must tell me; otherwise we may be even more ill-prepared that we already are. You must also be prepared to offer apologies–” he held up his hand to stymie the predictable fierce protest, “you were not given permission to act in such an aggressive manner.”

“How was I supposed to act given what happened to Richard?!”

“You were expected to act as befitting your station as my Human Servant Anita.” The dark-haired woman knew that whenever Jean-Claude used her full name he was truly angry.

She took a moment to get her emotions under control considering the recent trouble they’ve landed her in. With a deep sigh, she looked at her handsome lover, taking a moment to appreciate his outfit. Most of his outfit contained a color blue so dark, it looked black unless you caught the flash of blue in the light, was his color scheme tonight. He wore tight leather pants, a black gauzy tuxedo shirt, and the same color for his three-quarter length leather jacket. Her lover’s long, black hair shone beautifully, his pale skin, and sapphire-blue eyes provided a beautiful contrast to the ensemble.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” And with that she proceeded to tell him **most** of everything that occurred at Cara’s place. She certainly had no plans about telling him her very colorful threat that if Anita were being honest with herself, alarmed her a tad. Not that she’d ever admit it.    

Once she finished, silence filled the air for a few moments, making Anita nervous. Jean-Claude shook his head. “If I did not love you so, I would be within my rights to punish you, publically. However, it is even more imperative that you provide an apology at the soonest convenience. This is non-negotiable.”

Richard made his way towards them. He’d overheard the conversation, as well as the subsequent order from Jean-Claude. “Good luck,” he added sarcastically. Knowing Anita, she’ll somehow make it sound like an insult. “I’d send Jason with her.”

He was wearing his usual jeans and a tight v-neck, light blue t-shirt; it off-set beautifully against his muscled body, gleaming tanned skin, bourbon-colored eyes, and thick brownish-red hair. _Richard may be a perpetual kill-joy, but he was still beautiful_ , thought Anita. At the moment, he was as angry at her too. Anita knew she’d have to take an aspirin or five before this night was over, to ward off the looming headache that was threatening to erupt.

Asher appeared next to them, breaking up the intense discussion. “The Council has arrived. There appears to be nothing untoward. I suspect whatever… difficulties they are about to deliver, they’ll do it here. Nevertheless, we’ll prepare just in case.” As he turned to meet their guests, he paused. “You should know that the Mistress Morgana appears to be with the group.”

Anita interrupted. “Who is Mistress Morgana? And do we know who the Council member is yet?”

“Non. But having Morgana as an emissary, tells me that the Vampire is powerful. Morgana answers to no one, though many from the Council have tried. And failed. It has been rumored that only Marmee Noir strikes any fear in her.” Jean-Claude didn’t look worried, but Anita could feel his concern through their link, before he put up the wall, blocking her.

“Very well. Send them in.” he ordered.

Right as the blonde Vampire was opening the door, one of the Were-Rats posing as security hurried in. “Excuse me Master. Another car has arrived. We believe it is the new Lupa, Cara.”

Anita cursed, Nathaniel and Micah paled – although she wasn’t sure if Micah paled because he was both pissed and humiliated, probably both. Damian couldn’t help the growl that escaped him.

“Jason, go meet with our guests from the Council. Asher, please meet our other guests.” Jean-Claude ordered.

Meanwhile, Meng-Die, Requiem, Wicked and Truth – two Master Vampires from Belle Morte’s lines, more suited for fighting than simply sex which was the prominent characteristic of Belle’s Vampires. Along with Richard, were Sylvie, Jamil, and Shang-Da. Rafael sat calmly in a chair nearby, watching the whole proceedings, keeping his own council. After all, he allied himself and the Were-Rats with Jean-Claude, and by extension to Richard and the Pack, to cement his own power. The latest activities within the Pack meant he might have to reconsider certain things.

Some of Anita’s Pard, Cherry and Zane were also in attendance, along with Micah, Merle, Caleb, and Nathaniel. She refused to bring the others because every time there was a Council visit too many within her Pard ended up getting hurt, due to their submissiveness. Despite the protestations, she was determined to keep them safe this time around. Nathaniel, even though he was submissive, was not only Anita’s lover and _pomme de sang_ to feed her _ardeur_ , he, along with Damian had inadvertently formed Anita’s second Triumvirate.

 _One could get a headache just from considering all the complex dynamics within this room_ , Jean-Claude internally complained. He, along with Richard, Anita, Micah, and Rafael were sitting in the sitting area, as befitting Alphas of their domain, Nathaniel sat on one of the large pillows at Anita’s feet, and another had been placed near Jean-Claude’s feet for Jason. While Anita felt inherently uncomfortable at the unique seating arrangements, this was part of the required formal Vampire Council etiquette for when Council members visited.

Claudia, the very muscular Were-Rat, and Anita’s personal guard, stood like sentry behind the sitting area near Anita, looking imposing with her huge arms crossed over her impressive breasts. Other guards such as Merle in his usual leather-daddy, motorcycle outfit also stood nearby, along with Meng-Die, Wicked and Truth, as well as Damian, and Richard’s lieutenants: Jamil, Sylvie, and Shang-da. Other Were-Rats were interspersed throughout the building and were ready to intervene at a moment’s notice from Rafael. Aside from Richard, Sylvie, and Claudia, plus a few Were-Rats, everyone else was wearing some combination of leather, PVC, lace, and more leather. Their… f _ood_ , ( _pomme de sang_ ) wore even less. Nathaniel, much to Anita’s consternation, wore one of his outfits from his “day” job – which consisted of barely-nothing; a vinyl loin-cloth and collar. In fact, Anita hated that he had to parade around in this, even if Nathaniel didn’t seem to mind. But then Weres didn’t have the same hang-ups about nudity or almost-nudity as humans. However, this line of thinking was interrupted when the door opened by one of the Were-Rats.

Entering, was a broad-shouldered male wearing a pin-striped European-cut suit (Gerard), followed by a tanned short-haired, brunette, woman wearing an all-white leather, two-piece suit (Trianna): a short leather jacket, accompanied by almost painted-on leather pants. After her was someone tall, subtle curves hinting at a female, wearing a white, hooded cloak. Because the hood was up they were unable to see what she looked like. Another woman followed her, wearing a blood-red cloak, but her hood was down, dark curls tumbling around her shoulders and back. Her sharp green eyes took in all the room’s inhabitants. Morgana, like Kahlan was shielding hard so their hosts had no idea of how powerful they were. Another medium-length, dark-haired woman entered, also wearing a similar white leather suit (Garren).

A huge, swarthy male, entered. A Were from the scent, followed by an almost delicate, yet lanky, white-blonde haired, female wearing another red-hooded cloak. Another blonde, her long hair in a french-braid, somewhat tanned, but the coloring was muted due to the Vampire virus, also wearing the white leather suit, followed the shorter blonde. Another tall, lanky male entered, wearing another tailored suit. And finally another blonde, wearing the white hooded cloak, but hers was down, completed the party.

All were very attractive, yet mysterious. Morgana took the lead, standing slightly ahead and protectively of Kahlan, mused how remarkably similar in coloring Jean-Claude was to Kahlan. Asher came up behind the party, walked over to Jean-Claude. Jean-Claude, Anita, Richard and Rafael stood to greet their guests.

“May I welcome you to St. Louis. Other guests will be arriving momentarily. I am Jean-Claude, Master of the City of St. Louis.” Before he could continue, Jason entered the room followed by the other ‘guests’.

All the women wore all-black leather, except for a tanned, medium-length, blonde woman, who wore a blood-red leather suit. As Jason made his way over to Jean-Claude, the blonde sauntered into the room, slowly looking over the room’s occupants and the room’s decor.

“Well, I’m not sure the monochromatic theme works for me.” Sex and simmering power oozed from the newest blonde. Cara grinned, her fangs peeking out. “Wow, we have a full-house tonight. I hope we’re not interrupting”

Jean-Claude barely restrained himself from reacting. “Nevertheless you are.”

The tension suddenly increased from his people reacting at the perceived insult. However, Nicci was staring at Morgana and the woman who was hidden by her hooded cloak. Even though they were masking, Nicci could still feel the barely-contained powerful magic they were hiding. It also helped that the group had some very attractive members. Cara, strolled further into the room, followed by Nicci, Denna, Berdine, and Raina.

Her eyes found the Ulfric’s. “Hello Richard.” Cara’s green pools landed on Anita, barely restraining herself from smirking. But given the darkening countenance, she wasn’t fully succeeding. “Anita.”

Before the Necromancer could respond, another feminine, commanding voice echoed out before things escalated. “Perhaps now would be a good time for proper introductions.” The woman removed her cloak, Kahlan ignored the gasps reverberating around the room.

Jason being Jason couldn’t help himself. He glanced at Jean-Claude. “Do you have any family we don’t know about?”

Tinkling laughter trickled around the room, caressing Jason’s skin, eliciting a responsive shiver. “I can assure you Wolf, that I have no male relatives that I am aware of. However, the… resemblance is curious.”

Kahlan walked closer to Jean-Claude, holding out her hand in expectation. “You may call me Mistress Kahlan.”

Jean-Claude slightly bent over the appendage and laid a chaste kiss on it. “Welcome to my home.” He gestured to the people next to him. “This is my Human Servant - Anita, our Ulfric, Richard of the Thronnos Rokke Clan, Rafael, Rom of the Dark Crown Clan, and of course, you know my 2nd, Asher.”

Kahlan sauntered over to a nearby chair, effortlessly sitting, calmly situating herself as she crossed her legs, the picture of confidence. “I bid you greetings from the Council.”

She smirked, knowing the strained relationship between this Master of the City and the Council. Nodding at Morgana, who with inhuman grace sat next to Kahlan, along with Dennee, who sat on Kahlan’s other side. Athena and Sergio protectively stood behind them. The others stood off to the side, keeping watch.

Jean-Claude nodded at Jason. “Would you care for some refreshments?” But Kahlan’s attention was diverted elsewhere; namely the blonde mischief-maker.

Brilliant, sapphire-blue eyes were locked with gorgeous jade pools of emotion. In this world, even though Kahlan wouldn’t have the memories of the ‘Kahlan’ Cara knew, Cara still had some, and it was wreaking havoc on her system. Every day, more and more memories began to fade as her body calibrated to this dimension. However, no matter the time, the dimension, or world, Cara’s mind may not remember **why** or even **who** the former-Confessor was, her body, her heart would **always** know Kahlan. Given the indecipherable emotion emanating from Kahlan’s eyes, Cara wondered if her former-lover remembered her too.

This Kahlan was even more stunning then the one she fell in love with in their previous dimension. The former Kahlan was just coming into her own, after finding the Stone of Tears and defeating the Keeper, she was just beginning her rule as the Mother Confessor, ruler of the Midlands. The former Kahlan, regardless of the fighting and death, had a certain element of innocence, and innate kindness that their quest never diminished. This Kahlan was commanding, confident, powerful, with a hint of darkness, and Cara guessed ruthless if needed, making her even more attractive.

“And you are?” Kahlan watched as Cara plucked a grape from the plate of artfully-prepared fruit and wine platter, before indolently seating herself. The Vampire-Mage could feel potent, icy-power emanating from the blonde, as well as a very dominant Were. She could smell… cat. But incredibly she could also smell wolf, as well as… others(?).

Locking eyes with Kahlan once again, Cara decided that the former Confessor made a fierce Vampire. “I am Cara Mason, the new Lupa of the Thronnos Rokke Clan.” She managed to drag her eyes away from Kahlan to Richard, “isn’t that right Dick.”

Turning red with indignation, Richard glared back. Gritting his teeth, he responded. “It’s Richard!” He paused, collecting himself. “And yes, that is correct.”

Tilting her head, this time it was Morgana that chimed in. “That is interesting because your… people do not all smell like Wolf. They **are** yours, correct?”

Shifting her eyes from Kahlan, she focused her attention on Morgana. “Correct. Only two of my Tribe members are Wolf.” She gestured toward Raina and Berdine. “Berdine and,” she smirked slightly, knowing that the name Raina had a bad connotation with the Wolves, “Raina.”

Suddenly a voice echoed inside her head. **_You are not just a Wolf, are you?_**

Barely stifling her surprise, Cara somehow knew it was Kahlan. The voice caressed her insides, eliciting a physical response before she could control herself, adding to the already tumultuous emotions towards Kahlan. An echoing, husky chuckle resonating deep inside Cara, indicated that the Vampire felt her response.

 _Didn’t anyone ever tell you that it’s rude to ‘listen’ in on people’s thoughts?_ Cara responded.

 ** _You seem… familiar to me._** A pause and a sensation like mild discomfort trickling down through the weird tenuous link, illustrated Kahlan’s displeasure at this surprise. What Cara couldn’t know was that the blonde’s scent was almost driving Kahlan to distraction. It was utterly delicious and she was surprisingly finding it difficult to curb her natural Vampire predatory and territorial instincts. Instincts she’d mastered control of centuries ago. It was if she’d been starved of blood, only to be surrounded by a delicious, warm source, like blood mixed with dark chocolate and caramel. When Garren came to sit upon one of the large pillows near her feet, her warmth thankfully distracting Kahlan, the Mage-Warrior was able to re-focus on her surroundings, while discreetly unclenching her fists.

Thankfully, Morgana had taken up greetings and conversation while Kahlan was distracted. Hopefully, Jean-Claude didn’t notice. But it was better to be prepared just in case.

Kahlan then opened her stronger link to Morgana. _Something is… wrong._

 _I know. I can sense your… disquiet. Someone calls to you. Someone in this room,_ her General inquired.

 _I’m not sure how much longer I can maintain my composure. If we do not leave soon, I might… **act** on my instincts. _Kahlan was thankful that she wasn’t sitting in a chair that had no armrests or she was fairly certain that they would have collapsed under the strength of her tension-filled hands.

 _I’ll take care of it._ If Morgana discerned any hint of magic causing this, she would have already taken action against Jean-Claude for the threat.

But she suspected it was something else entirely. Something of Vampire legends, twisted throughout the centuries by Vampires unable to access certain sensations or feelings. This legend was twisted further by sadistic or dark, bordering on evil (i.e. Morvene – Damian’s Sire) Vampires throughout the ages – such as various Council members. This legend was now called Servant-to-Call and because of this lack of understanding, certain formal ceremonies and traditions had been lost, losing the potency in the connection between Vampire and their Servant.

Of course, those who were able to access **some** of these sensations, carried out by the more commonly used traditions – the Mark or Claim, were still able to produce a milder, yet still potent connection. Most Vampires lived for centuries, settling for lesser versions of a true Servant, instead others sought Servants who would boost their own Powers. This was a means of survival and practicality. The bond between Jean-Claude, his female Servant, and his Wolf was a particularly potent bastardization of this process.

However, this legend was originally defined as the **Confessor Bond,** granting the Claim similar status to their Vampire Mate, and only someone who truly loved – on the deepest levels could cement this legendary Bond. There were wild, unsubstantiated stories regarding how Marmee Noir came into existence, was due to the destruction of her **Confessor Bond, her True Mate** , creating the… creature that now exists. Unable to feel beyond the most basic needs, unable to access her conscious - nor caring, not being able to discern what was right or wrong, good or evil, becoming the ultimate predator, or nightmare of legends. It is also believed that had Vampires been able to utilize this special bond, it might have allowed for other means of… producing, perhaps procreating Vampires, which is why Morgana suspected that certain religious institutions might have had a hand in attempting to eradicate this legend.

Considering that Kahlan was one of the first Vampires, perhaps this awareness had been locked away deep inside her DNA. Yet, it was too soon to tell and the only reason this legend came to mind was because Kahlan was such an extraordinary Vampire. She was an apex- predator, even for their kind; power, magical, intuitive, and surprisingly… human-like, qualities all rolled into one. Most Vampires claimed at least one of these characteristics, the few powerful ones could claim two, maybe even three, but none had all these qualities. It was one of the reasons why Morgana continued to serve her Mistress – there were none more worthy. Athena was her Second and lover, yet she was not her true Bond. But she would always serve Morgana and by extension Mistress Kahlan. Unless she stumbled upon her true Bond, she would not be released – luckily for them both, Athena was more than fine with this arrangement.

Meanwhile, Cara thankfully was able to fall-back on her Mord-Sith training or her boiling reaction to Kahlan would’ve become more apparent in this room full of power-brokers. Instead she presented her patented slightly bored, yet indolent expression, carefully hiding the bubbling caldron of sensations thoroughly unsettling her. However Nicci knew something was up. Through their Tribal link, she could discern Cara desperately trying to solidify her usually formidable psychic walls in effort to shut her out, the physical and emotional reaction to the Vampire was intense, and it was these sensations that were leaking around the cracks, striking her own psyche.

Perhaps it would be wise to get them out of here. Dick, and that raving bitch would love nothing more than to take back power and control after being humiliated by them, by Cara. She raised her eyes, assessing the room, only to lock eyes with another set of brilliant green eyes of the other dark-haired, female Vampire, Morgana. Her expression remained inscrutable and ageless.

 _Your Mistress is leaking,_ came the dulcet tones in her head.

Reluctant to reveal anything to such a powerful stranger, Nicci remained silent.

 _No need to answer. I can sense it Were-Tiger. She reacts to my Mistress_ , Morgana responded.

Nicci tried to stifle the surprise and sniggling sense of fear. It took a level of magical strength to be able to sense someone’s emotions so precisely, and in spite of Cara’s shielding. _What do you want?_

A sense of chuckling echoed in her head. _No need to be so defensive. We would like to cut this…_ _tête_ -à- _tête short_ _to… gather ourselves. Would I be remiss in thinking that you are of the same opinion?_

Nicci snuck another glance at Cara, not missing the twitch of her cheek muscle even though her expression remained untroubled, even amused. But Nicci knew this was a façade. Aside from Morgana, the sorceress could feel Cara’s gurgling emotions thundering around her psyche. So much so, that it was becoming hard to remain impervious in front of their audience. _Perhaps. What do you have in mind?_

Morgana could sense wariness and distrust emanating from the blonde sorceress. She also gave an internal shiver; Nicci’s magic was… deliciously potent. She’d have to ensure they had a few moments to themselves during her stay in St. Louis. It didn’t hurt that the sorceress was physically tempting. She speculated that her blood would be… yummy.

 _Merely a distraction,_ responded the Vampire. Morgana then flickered her eyes towards the far wall where bodyguards lined the wall. Understanding echoed down from Nicci to Morgana. _But we must do it soon because I don’t think either of them will hold up for much longer._

No doubt it didn’t help that Cara was now showing signs of this instinctive call to Kahlan. As it was, she was unaware that she’d begun emitting a low purr, her eyes had begun to glow a deep, brilliant jade, and Cara’s emotions began to echo down to her Tribe, particularly felt strongly in Nicci. It was akin to a backwash of hot peppermint coating along their skin, inside their animal-psyche, making their Beasts restless. Nicci knew something had to be done.

For now, it was only Nicci’s abilities as a sorceress that she was able to sense Cara emotionally unraveling, their Alpha’s mental walls were still fairly strong. Even though they had magic in varying degrees, the rest of the Tribal members were not strong enough to sense why they were becoming restless. It was a bit like feeling a tickle, yet not knowing the source. But the situation was quickly devolving to a powder-keg environment, where anything could set Cara off. Chances are that that ‘anything’ would be related to Mistress Kahlan.

Yet, as soon as that thought flickered through her head, Cara was suddenly tensing and snarling at one of the twin brother Vampires standing nearby, causing the room to become suffocating with tension, and go silent. Nicci and Denna and Berdine launched to their feet, ready to protect and defend their Dominus. However it was what happened next that really clarified things for Nicci. 


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year and may you have better luck with your New Year's Resolutions!
> 
> A/N: Between recovering from crazy weather (i.e. Sandy), RL, and a recacitraint muse, this update has been a long-time coming, and I sincerely apologize.
> 
> A/N: Thank you to everyone who took a moment to provide feedback and even a kudos, it was, and is much appreciated!

Seeing Cara as a threat because she’d begun to Partially-Shift; her nails into claws, her fangs grew long and dangerous, the Vampire brothers, Wicked and Truth, moved with Vampire speed towards her with their swords unsheathed. It was the first brother, Truth, who inadvertently kick-started this developing crisis by appreciatively staring a tad too long at Kahlan, eliciting an immediate reaction from Cara, who stood ready to stake her claim of her _Mate_.

It was if her human intelligence was slowly being pushed aside by her Beasts. Feral, animal-like behavior, began to color her thought-process. It wasn’t being done on purpose, but the moment her eyes, her senses locked onto Kahlan, her normal, coolly-calm internal reserves started to unravel. With her endorphins firing, along with her lizard-brain taking over all common sense and higher-brain function, worked to create this internal hurricane inside Cara.

When the Vampire brothers pulled their weapons, Cara started forward to meet the threat, only to be sent flying, and then body slammed with Vampire strength and speed into a nearby wall. As the plaster-dust cleared, hot, glowing sapphire-colored eyes bored into hers.

“What are you doing to me?!” Kahlan’s eyes mapped a hot trail down the delicious sun-kissed skin of Cara’s neck and cleavage. Sapphire-blue eyes had darkened to an almost deep purple, the bluish-purple bleeding out the whites of her eyes, as arousal and magic increased. Kahlan could feel the flicker of magic tickling, growing stronger, like a power-plant overheating.

Growling in response, her own eyes becoming the color of pure jade, Cara managed to refrain from nuzzling into the side of Kahlan’s neck due to the tantalizing scent emanating from her. “I could ask you the same thing!” she hotly accused. But her eyes dipped to Kahlan’s lips that somehow seemed sexier framed by her impressive, yet delicate, razor-sharp fangs.

Kahlan leaned her head closer to the blonde, her full, pink lips barely grazing plump ones as her gleaming fangs grazed the blonde’s delectable mouth. With her hands possessively tightening their hold on Cara’s wrists, the dark-haired vampire inserted her leg more fully in between Cara’s toned thighs. Her nostrils flared, inhaling deeply, needing to be closer to the source of that tangy-sweet scent and humid warmth, emanating from between the blonde’s thighs.

The Master Vampire knew that if she stared down at the throbbing skin along Cara’s pulse-point for more than a few moments, she’d give into her impulse to bite down and drink. Her thirst should have been sated, Garren had fed her earlier this evening to prepare for this meeting. So it wasn’t about nourishment. But there was a compulsion, a **_need_** that was more instinctive, more animal-like than the need to feed. Kahlan had never smelled anything like it. It smelled like home, wildness, and chocolate all rolled into one. There was also something else – magic. She wanted that blood, but she wanted more to be Gifted a drink by the blonde Were. And she wanted her.

The fact that Kahlan knew Cara could, was scenting her own arousal, if the flaring of her nostrils was any indication, wasn’t helping the situation. Nipples tightening, her breasts feeling heavy and tight, Kahlan was also becoming increasingly soaking wet. She could feel the leaking stream of fluid smearing along her inner-thighs, her folds growing heavy with thickening blood, her pearl quivered, and grew firm.

So it wasn’t a surprise when it was Cara who leaned her head closer, finally giving into the need to taste Kahlan. Crushing her lips against the Vampire’s, a rumbling purr sounded from deep within her chest, as her mouth attempted to devour the dark-haired woman’s lips. Both mouths opened, needing an even deeper connection, both trying to assert dominance, as tongues stole inside, twining around each other, mapping out each other’s mouths. When Kahlan suckled around Cara’s tongue, eliciting a deep, liquid moan, the Vampire let one wrist go to wrap it around the blonde’s waist. However when one of Kahlan’s fangs minutely slashed along the length of the blonde’s tongue, causing blood to weep out from the wound, Kahlan rumbled a deep groan as she suckled even harder.

The taste of Cara’s blood was beyond intoxicating. It was heady, feral, and magic. A taste unlike anything Kahlan had ever experienced and one she planned to keep for herself. Suckling Cara’s tongue fiercely, trying to extract more of the life-source, Kahlan tugged the blonde’s body even tighter against, hers; enjoying the way their breasts pressed against each other, the way their scents began to mingle together. Kahlan wasn’t sure if she’d ever have enough.

Kahlan was running on pure Vampire instincts, unknowingly setting off an ancient Vampire Mating Ritual. Morgana shared a look with Nicci, both were using their powers to hide the ancient magic echoing from Mistress Kahlan and Dominus Cara, from their audience. Needless to say it wasn’t easy. The more the lust and arousal continued to increase, the more brilliantly strong the magic became.

 _We must get them out of here now._ Morgana mentally shared.

 _Indeed. Teleportation?_ Nicci inquired.

A surprised perfectly-manicured dark brow lifted in surprise. _Is this something you can manage?_

 _I can feel my Dominus’ need to assert her control. I suspect your mistress will not allow this. If they’re going to… escalate things, it needs to be done far from these vultures._ Nicci kept a careful gaze out onto their audience while she carried on her mental conversation with Morgana, paying particular attention to Jean-Claude and his Human Servant, she could feel the Vampire’s eyes raking her.

 _Clever.             If you can pull it off. However, my Mistress’ life will not be left up to chance. As it appears that our Mistresses’ lives are now entwined, I will assist you._ Bristling at the inference that her skills might be in question, Nicci stifled the growl in annoyance, her Beast pacing in discontent, only to hear/feel a sensation like warm laughter coating her senses.

 _Now, now, Tiger, no need to have your fur standing on edge. I simply meant other than her Coven leader, I never allow anyone to perform magic involving my Mistress. Surely you can understand._ Morgana couldn’t wait to get the honey-blonde alone. With a mental leer, Morgana planned on sampling the delights the blonde had to offer, willingly, if reluctantly, even better.

But then she was startled when she heard a mirthless chuckle-growl echoing along her senses. _I think you’ll find Vampire, that I am not to be underestimated. Make a move at your peril._

Stamping down her sudden need to assert dominance, Morgana curtly nodded. _Do you have a destination in mind?_

 _Our home._ Nicci sent an image of their compound and acknowledged Morgana’s approval before continuing. _I suggest we go with them and the rest of our associates will meet us there._ They spent the next few moments alerting their clans of their plans, and then assigning Berdine temporary command of the Tribe, while Dennee was placed in-charge of Kahlan’s Clan. When Cara began growling at Kahlan they knew they were running out-of-time. Both women discreetly placed their hands on their Mistresses’ arms, power bubbling up inside them, to expand, encompassing both Kahlan and Cara, until a sound like an abrupt suction, all four women disappeared, sending the room into a flurry.

Sighing, Dennee prepared herself to deal with the fall-out. Sharing a look with her counterpart of the Were pack whose leader helped cause this diplomatic nightmare, she watched as the red-head brought two fingers to her lips, and blew. A loud whistle sounded out, instantly silencing everyone in the room. Luckily Dennee, who through Kahlan, was a Council representative, which meant she could assert some measures as a means to protect themselves from these startling events.

Needlessly clearing her throat, she began. “Obviously, things have occurred, while we’d been planning for this eventuality, clearly it,” she blatantly lied, “…has been accelerated.”

Not believing that load bullshit, Anita was the first to respond, cutting off Jean-Claude’s careful response. Scoffing, Anita replied. “You’re kidding right?! I mean, even if it was low-powered, clearly one of you was trying to attempt a magical attack and it backfired.”

This time it was Berdine who answered. “Are you questioning my Dominus – **your** new Pack leader?!”

Jean-Claude interrupted. “Not at all Berdine, Mistress Dennee. We are simply trying to ascertain what occurred and how we can assist.” This allowed Council members to save face, while politely compelling them to provide information; information that would give Jean-Claude additional advantage against the Council.

When Mistress Kahlan first arrived, Jean-Claude had been more than concerned. He’d heard legends about her, but never had the occasion to meet her. The fact that she’d been one of Marmee’s elite personal guards and was one of the original Vampires Sired by Marmee, made her a very worthy adversary. Feeling the muted sense of magical power emanating from her, in addition to the legendary Morgana, had internally shaken Jean-Claude’s reserves. Shielding tightly, none of these concerns were apparent through his link to the Wolf or Anita. So when things began to quickly unravel due to some unknown entity between Mistress Kahlan and the recent addition to St. Louis’ Were community and newest Werewolf Pack leader, Cara, left him completely bewildered, momentarily unable to act.

But he quickly got over that sensation as he quickly and decisively ordered everyone to stand down and all non-essential guards to leave the room. He’d smelled an increase in pheromones earlier, but had had a difficult time trying to place it because just as he’d narrow it down, it would dissipate just enough for him to lose its origins. Obviously he now knew the cause of the pheromones, just not why. However, he was determined to find those answers; particularly if it cemented his power.

Meanwhile Berdine could almost read Jean-Claude’s mind. If he could take advantage of this situation, strengthen his power-base, which meant demanding subservience from Cara and their Tribe, he’d do it.  But Berdine planned to ensure that his scheming would be no easy task. Berdine was the known for her breadth of knowledge, a scholar, gifting her with the ability to collect information. It made her an effective negotiator, and even better in diplomacy, which she suspected would work in good stead in this instance. She suspected that Kahlan’s associates have the same idea. Jean-Claude would not want to them as their enemy - from what little memory she had of her previous life, which grew hazier every day, she remembered, sensed enough that their Mord-Sith backgrounds made them formidable enemies


	26. Chapter 26

Seeing Cara as a threat because she’d begun to Partially-Shift; her nails into claws, her fangs grew long and dangerous, the Vampire brothers, Wicked and Truth, moved with Vampire speed towards her with their swords unsheathed. It was the first brother, Truth, who inadvertently kick-started this developing crisis by appreciatively staring a tad too long at Kahlan, eliciting an immediate reaction from Cara, who stood ready to stake her claim of her _Mate_.

It was if her human intelligence was slowly being pushed aside by her Beasts. Feral, animal-like behavior, began to color her thought-process. It wasn’t being done on purpose, but the moment her eyes, her senses locked onto Kahlan, her normal, coolly-calm internal reserves started to unravel. With her endorphins firing, along with her lizard-brain taking over all common sense and higher-brain function, worked to create this internal hurricane inside Cara.

When the Vampire brothers pulled their weapons, Cara started forward to meet the threat, only to be sent flying, and then body slammed with Vampire strength and speed into a nearby wall. As the plaster-dust cleared, hot, glowing sapphire-colored eyes bored into hers.

“What are you doing to me?!” Kahlan’s eyes mapped a hot trail down the delicious sun-kissed skin of Cara’s neck and cleavage. Sapphire-blue eyes had darkened to an almost deep purple, the bluish-purple bleeding out the whites of her eyes, as arousal and magic increased. Kahlan could feel the flicker of magic tickling, growing stronger, like a power-plant overheating.

Growling in response, her own eyes becoming the color of pure jade, Cara managed to refrain from nuzzling into the side of Kahlan’s neck due to the tantalizing scent emanating from her. “I could ask you the same thing!” she hotly accused. But her eyes dipped to Kahlan’s lips that somehow seemed sexier framed by her impressive, yet delicate, razor-sharp fangs.

Kahlan leaned her head closer to the blonde, her full, pink lips barely grazing plump ones as her gleaming fangs grazed the blonde’s delectable mouth. With her hands possessively tightening their hold on Cara’s wrists, the dark-haired vampire inserted her leg more fully in between Cara’s toned thighs. Her nostrils flared, inhaling deeply, needing to be closer to the source of that tangy-sweet scent and humid warmth, emanating from between the blonde’s thighs.

The Master Vampire knew that if she stared down at the throbbing skin along Cara’s pulse-point for more than a few moments, she’d give into her impulse to bite down and drink. Her thirst should have been sated, Garren had fed her earlier this evening to prepare for this meeting. So it wasn’t about nourishment. But there was a compulsion, a **_need_** that was more instinctive, more animal-like than the need to feed. Kahlan had never smelled anything like it. It smelled like home, wildness, and chocolate all rolled into one. There was also something else – magic. She wanted that blood, but she wanted more to be Gifted a drink by the blonde Were. And she wanted her.

The fact that Kahlan knew Cara could, was scenting her own arousal, if the flaring of her nostrils was any indication, wasn’t helping the situation. Nipples tightening, her breasts feeling heavy and tight, Kahlan was also becoming increasingly soaking wet. She could feel the leaking stream of fluid smearing along her inner-thighs, her folds growing heavy with thickening blood, her pearl quivered, and grew firm.

So it wasn’t a surprise when it was Cara who leaned her head closer, finally giving into the need to taste Kahlan. Crushing her lips against the Vampire’s, a rumbling purr sounded from deep within her chest, as her mouth attempted to devour the dark-haired woman’s lips. Both mouths opened, needing an even deeper connection, both trying to assert dominance, as tongues stole inside, twining around each other, mapping out each other’s mouths. When Kahlan suckled around Cara’s tongue, eliciting a deep, liquid moan, the Vampire let one wrist go to wrap it around the blonde’s waist. However when one of Kahlan’s fangs minutely slashed along the length of the blonde’s tongue, causing blood to weep out from the wound, Kahlan rumbled a deep groan as she suckled even harder.

The taste of Cara’s blood was beyond intoxicating. It was heady, feral, and magic. A taste unlike anything Kahlan had ever experienced and one she planned to keep for herself. Suckling Cara’s tongue fiercely, trying to extract more of the life-source, Kahlan tugged the blonde’s body even tighter against, hers; enjoying the way their breasts pressed against each other, the way their scents began to mingle together. Kahlan wasn’t sure if she’d ever have enough.

Kahlan was running on pure Vampire instincts, unknowingly setting off an ancient Vampire Mating Ritual. Morgana shared a look with Nicci, both were using their powers to hide the ancient magic echoing from Mistress Kahlan and Dominus Cara, from their audience. Needless to say it wasn’t easy. The more the lust and arousal continued to increase, the more brilliantly strong the magic became.

 _We must get them out of here now._ Morgana mentally shared.

 _Indeed. Teleportation?_ Nicci inquired.

A surprised perfectly-manicured dark brow lifted in surprise. _Is this something you can manage?_

 _I can feel my Dominus’ need to assert her control. I suspect your mistress will not allow this. If they’re going to… escalate things, it needs to be done far from these vultures._ Nicci kept a careful gaze out onto their audience while she carried on her mental conversation with Morgana, paying particular attention to Jean-Claude and his Human Servant, she could feel the Vampire’s eyes raking her.

 _Clever.             If you can pull it off. However, my Mistress’ life will not be left up to chance. As it appears that our Mistresses’ lives are now entwined, I will assist you._ Bristling at the inference that her skills might be in question, Nicci stifled the growl in annoyance, her Beast pacing in discontent, only to hear/feel a sensation like warm laughter coating her senses.

 _Now, now, Tiger, no need to have your fur standing on edge. I simply meant other than her Coven leader, I never allow anyone to perform magic involving my Mistress. Surely you can understand._ Morgana couldn’t wait to get the honey-blonde alone. With a mental leer, Morgana planned on sampling the delights the blonde had to offer, willingly, if reluctantly, even better.

But then she was startled when she heard a mirthless chuckle-growl echoing along her senses. _I think you’ll find Vampire, that I am not to be underestimated. Make a move at your peril._

Stamping down her sudden need to assert dominance, Morgana curtly nodded. _Do you have a destination in mind?_

 _Our home._ Nicci sent an image of their compound and acknowledged Morgana’s approval before continuing. _I suggest we go with them and the rest of our associates will meet us there._ They spent the next few moments alerting their clans of their plans, and then assigning Berdine temporary command of the Tribe, while Dennee was placed in-charge of Kahlan’s Clan. When Cara began growling at Kahlan they knew they were running out-of-time. Both women discreetly placed their hands on their Mistresses’ arms, power bubbling up inside them, to expand, encompassing both Kahlan and Cara, until a sound like an abrupt suction, all four women disappeared, sending the room into a flurry.

Sighing, Dennee prepared herself to deal with the fall-out. Sharing a look with her counterpart of the Were pack whose leader helped cause this diplomatic nightmare, she watched as the red-head brought two fingers to her lips, and blew. A loud whistle sounded out, instantly silencing everyone in the room. Luckily Dennee, who through Kahlan, was a Council representative, which meant she could assert some measures as a means to protect themselves from these startling events.

Needlessly clearing her throat, she began. “Obviously, things have occurred, while we’d been planning for this eventuality, clearly it,” she blatantly lied, “…has been accelerated.”

Not believing that load bullshit, Anita was the first to respond, cutting off Jean-Claude’s careful response. Scoffing, Anita replied. “You’re kidding right?! I mean, even if it was low-powered, clearly one of you was trying to attempt a magical attack and it backfired.”

This time it was Berdine who answered. “Are you questioning my Dominus – **your** new Pack leader?!”

Jean-Claude interrupted. “Not at all Berdine, Mistress Dennee. We are simply trying to ascertain what occurred and how we can assist.” This allowed Council members to save face, while politely compelling them to provide information; information that would give Jean-Claude additional advantage against the Council.

When Mistress Kahlan first arrived, Jean-Claude had been more than concerned. He’d heard legends about her, but never had the occasion to meet her. The fact that she’d been one of Marmee’s elite personal guards and was one of the original Vampires Sired by Marmee, made her a very worthy adversary. Feeling the muted sense of magical power emanating from her, in addition to the legendary Morgana, had internally shaken Jean-Claude’s reserves. Shielding tightly, none of these concerns were apparent through his link to the Wolf or Anita. So when things began to quickly unravel due to some unknown entity between Mistress Kahlan and the recent addition to St. Louis’ Were community and newest Werewolf Pack leader, Cara, left him completely bewildered, momentarily unable to act.

But he quickly got over that sensation as he quickly and decisively ordered everyone to stand down and all non-essential guards to leave the room. He’d smelled an increase in pheromones earlier, but had had a difficult time trying to place it because just as he’d narrow it down, it would dissipate just enough for him to lose its origins. Obviously he now knew the cause of the pheromones, just not why. However, he was determined to find those answers; particularly if it cemented his power.

Meanwhile Berdine could almost read Jean-Claude’s mind. If he could take advantage of this situation, strengthen his power-base, which meant demanding subservience from Cara and their Tribe, he’d do it.  But Berdine planned to ensure that his scheming would be no easy task. Berdine was the known for her breadth of knowledge, a scholar, gifting her with the ability to collect information. It made her an effective negotiator, and even better in diplomacy, which she suspected would work in good stead in this instance. She suspected that Kahlan’s associates have the same idea. Jean-Claude would not want to them as their enemy - from what little memory she had of her previous life, which grew hazier every day, she remembered, sensed enough that their Mord-Sith backgrounds made them formidable enemies.

 

***

 

Yet, what was occurring in this room was nothing compared to the momentous events developing at the Tribe’s home. Scaring their Were-Fox associate witless, papers flying high above his head when the four women appeared out of thin air, it was only due to their preternatural abilities that they didn’t land on their bottoms when they appeared in the middle of the living room. As it were, with her instincts on complete Vampire mode, Kahlan tore her lips away from Cara’s, snaked her arm around the blonde’s waist, and hissed at the new threat.

Holding her hands up in a placating manner, Morgana slowly cautiously approached her mistress. “Kahlan, my mistress, it is I Morgana.” She crept closer, Kahlan watching her like a hawk, possessively gripping a now struggling Cara to her body. “Look into my eyes, Kahlan. That’s it. Just look. Right. Into my eyes.”

Meanwhile, the teleportation, and the fact that Kahlan was holding her like Cara was some kind of toy she didn’t want to give up, awakened the blonde from her Kahlan-lust-induced trance. She was an Alpha, the Dominus! Shifting, her body becoming bigger, more muscular, her claws lengthening, the blonde was able to bring a knee up and into Kahlan stomach. Even though the Vampire no longer needed air, she released an **_oomph_** of air, causing her to release Cara. Hissing, her hand rubbing her stomach, Kahlan slowly made her way back to herself; releasing herself from her own Cara-induced stupor. Now both powerful women glared at each other, their fangs gleaming white and dangerous, as their bodies tensed for a physical altercation.

Forgetting for a moment what landed her into this situation, Kahlan gave into the immediate need to dominate, wanting to make the blonde submit to her. “How dare you attack me!” Moving quicker than the human eye could see, Kahlan had her hand wrapped around Cara’s throat. “Perhaps you need a lesson in addressing your Mistress,” she hissed.

Lust turning into battle-mode was an exhilarating experience for Cara. Feeling her nipples tightening even more, the blonde narrowed her gaze, locking her jade-green eyes onto Kahlan’s, and fiercely grinned. “I have no Mistress.” She leaned in threateningly, “Certainly you cannot believe you’re woman…” she mockingly cleared her throat, “excuse me, Vamp enough to make me submit to you?! In fact, you will be the one submitting to me.” Cara sneered.

Watching from a safe distance, Morgana was now more certain than ever. This was about an involuntary mating ritual and one that was about to take place. Hopefully they wouldn’t tear each other apart before they completed the ritual.  Both Nicci and Morgana shared a concerned glance, Nicci motioned for a terrified Felix to leave the vicinity. She watched as Mistress Kahlan practically glowed incandescent with rage. Suddenly things, like the flat-screen TV, or little crystal trinkets began exploding, glass sprinkling everywhere. The windows within the room rattled before imploding, books, and other items began shaking, falling to the ground, as the rage-lust-tinged magic coiled around the room like a whip. Morgana began to magically remove items from the room, while Nicci cleared away the glass and debris.

However it was when Kahlan stilled in response to Cara’s challenge, growled, and then suddenly launched herself at the blonde, that they knew it was better to leave the two powerful combatants alone. Although it took some coaxing (and dragging) from Morgana, since Nicci wasn’t certain that leaving them alone to battle was a good idea. Even though Morgana rarely explained herself to anyone, baring Kahlan or Mother, she promised to explain everything to Nicci. Of course, it helped that anyone still in the area as their battle ensued, would be swept up in the powerful magic.

This was reiterated just as they were leaving the room, an explosion of magic spewed out from the doorway, singeing their backs. Nicci shuddered, almost stumbling into Morgana, who instinctively wrapped her arms around her, even if the blonde didn’t need it. Faces closer than expected, lips barely brushing the other, they shared a long look; the irises of Morgana’s eyes expanded, taking up the white, while Nicci’s eyes simply glowed warmly. However, another loud crash broke their gazes, startling them into action.

“I assume you have supplies, perhaps some decent books here?” She was referring to magical books and supplies. If this mage was as strong as she suspected, then she’d surely have what they might need.

Rolling her eyes, Nicci’s hand motioned around the door where Kahlan and Cara were behind, erecting a barrier to prevent any further magical backlashes, before starting down the hall towards her rooms. “Follow me, your highness,” she mockingly said.

“Hmmm. Your highness… brings back memories.” She smirked at Nicci’s look of exasperation before the blonde continued down the hall, appreciatively watching her firm ass – which she suspected the blonde knew. 


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: SUPREME NAUGHTINESS AHEAD! WOULD NOT RECOMMEND READING AT WORK!

Meanwhile, the two combatants continued. Furniture was either overturned or torn apart, plaster dust filled the air from the body-slams into the walls, pieces of cloth and leather littered the floor from Cara partially Shifting, and as both women’s nails/claws shredded clothes.  But none of that mattered as Cara spun with a roundhouse-kick, which was blocked by Kahlan’s arm, while her other arm came up, nails long shifted into claws, swiped along Cara’s breast. Blood immediately welled up from the four long scratches, intensifying Kahlan’s need to for submission from the blonde.

 ** _Mine!_** She mentally snarled, a look of lust-rage echoed upon her face.

When those long, dagger-like nails from Kahlan’s free hand,  hooked into the remaining pieces of her leather top, tearing it completely from her body, leaving her half-naked, the constant growly-hiss coming from Kahlan suddenly switched to a subsonic purr. Her glowing, completely blue eyes hotly licked a trail of need from Cara’s swollen, cut and bleeding lips, down a long elegant neck, momentarily stopped on the bruising on the blonde’s pulse-point from earlier. A thrill of possessiveness filled her, knowing she marked the blonde. She dragged her eyes on down to pert, full breasts glistening with sweat, capped with tight pink nipples. The fact that trails of blood ran down the slope of one breast from her earlier scratches, a droplet almost hanging off the tip of her nipple incited Kahlan to act. The need to Claim, this dance they’d unwittingly engaged in, was coming to its conclusion.

Kahlan launched a kicked in the middle of Cara’s chest. Even though the Were had begun to move to avoid the kick, Kahlan’s foot ended up glancing off the side of her breast, launching her through a nearby window, glass splintering against her back, to land painfully on her back.

Hearing movement, Cara painfully rolled to her feet; ignoring the sweat and blood dripping stinging her wounds. Kahlan stood in front of the woman-sized-hole and completely obliterated window. Suddenly Cara grinned, enjoying the look of narrow-eyed suspicion from Kahlan as she Shifted completely into her one of her favorite forms: the Jaguar. Turning, she began to run, first on two legs, then on all-four, into the nearby woods that lined the property.

Hissing in fury as her prey tried to escape, Kahlan gave chase. She could fly, but the trees would make it difficult, and most importantly, she knew this was about the physicality of the _Chase_. Kahlan knew that once she caught the blonde Were, this violent dance would be over; she’d have rightfully captured her. Cara would be hers.

Almost gliding over the ground, Kahlan sluiced through the woods at inhuman speed, nostrils flaring to catch the scent of her future lover. They were encased in a deep darkness, dotted with a few stars in between the canopy of leaves, enhanced by the trees hanging over them like prickly shadows. But her incredible senses, along with her ability to perfectly see in pitch darkness, allowed Kahlan glimpses of a moving shadow. Though Cara didn’t make it easy. The fact was, Kahlan was terribly aroused. And the longer this Mating process took, the harder this impromptu chase became, the more it heightened the sensations. In fact, Kahlan had never felt this ‘alive,’ yet this feral, it was truly exhilarating.  It also increased her want of the blonde and she was losing patience to complete the joining.

Narrowing her eyes even further as a hint of inky-black fur darted out several yards ahead, Kahlan had had enough. With a flying-leap she landed and then lunged onto the back of the Were-Jaguar, sending them rolling on the ground, silky fur brushing against her rigid nipples. Cara had Partially-Shifted back when she heard the almost-silent leap of the Master-Vampire and the barely-there whistle of moving air right before a heavy body landed on her back. Somehow Kahlan managed to twist their bodies so that she ended up on top of Cara. Sitting up while gathering the blonde’s wrists in one hand, pinning them on the ground above Cara’s head, as she straddled the Were’s heaving body.

Kahlan enjoyed the final few moments of Cara’s writhing body underneath her, setting her body even more aflame from the hunt. When she had enough, she squeezed her thighs along Cara’s torso.

“Enough!” she ordered.                                        

Panting, Cara Shifted back completely as she stared up into those glittering completely glowing sapphire eyes. Those eyes were so hot she expected her skin to begin smoking from their intensity. More importantly, she could smell the potent scent of arousal emanating from between the Vampire’s thighs, and when Kahlan saw Cara’s nose flaring, inhaling her scent, those eyes glittered knowingly. Momentarily closing her eyes, Cara watched as Kahlan’s full lips wordlessly muttered an incantation, and suddenly the Vampire was as naked as the golden-skinned blonde underneath her.

Reveling in the whimper-growl that leaked from those plump, pink lips, Kahlan teasingly rubbed her thoroughly soaked pussy, smearing her juices against Cara’s muscled abdomen, watching as those gorgeous jade-green eyes flutter. “That’s it.” Kahlan cooed.

Her eyes took in her conquered Were. Blonde hair splayed behind Cara’s head, tanned skin, full breasts heaving and beautiful, erect nipples, even with four wicked slashes along the slope of one breast from Kahlan’s nails from earlier. Even though the blood was starting to congeal due to Cara’s accelerated Lycanthrope healing, it was no less intoxicating. The smell almost as intoxicating as the scent of Cara’s arousal. Her scent filled Kahlan’s senses, making her fangs and nipples ache as deliciously as her clit. She bent her head, bringing her lips to Cara’s teasingly brushing them against the blonde’s, before pressing, demanding, and then gaining entrance. Eyes fluttering close, the kiss began as slow, deep, and possessive. Tangling, suckling on Cara’s tongue, enjoying the whimper purring forth from Cara, until the Vampire slowly broke away, sitting back up, to stare down at the beautiful blonde.

Baring her teeth, panting, Cara growled back, feeling the delicious-burn from the bloody slashes along her breasts and other wounds, the slick heat scouring the skin along her stomach. It also didn’t help that the Vampire’s luscious breasts, capped with plump turgid nipples, continued to teasingly graze along Cara’s upper-chest whenever she’d lean over, occasionally near her mouth – but not near enough. And from the gleaming, heated look from the dark-haired woman, Kahlan knew it. Gazing at the Master Vampire, glittering, smoldering, glowing, blue eyes hungrily and possessively stared into Cara’s, as she perched atop of her. Her lush blue-black hair strewn across her shoulders and upper-breasts, a womanly, yet sleekly-muscled athletic figure bespoke of a woman who took care of herself, regardless of the Power strumming through her. Creamy, alabaster skin pinkened with magic and a recent feeding, begged for Cara’s hands and mouth.

“Goddess you are so beautiful.” Cara found herself helplessly muttering.

But Cara wasn’t giving in just yet. Regardless of her weakening resolve, her swollen and throbbing clit currently rubbed against the smooth, yet firm thigh bottom perched and grinding into her groin. It incited the **_want_** to finally give in. To see all that beautiful dark hair currently drifting over her body and spread out underneath her. The wetness coating the inside of her thighs was almost enough to make her do whatever she could to see if Kahlan’s creamy skin became even pinker the right before cumming. It was almost driving her nuts to be able to smell that tantalizing, intoxicating scent emanating from Kahlan’s own arousal, but with her hands captured and Kahlan’s body pinning her down, she was unable to do anything about it. Yet.

But she, like Kahlan also knew _something_ else was at work. Her mind was only marginally clear enough now to sense the reality of the situation. Cara was an Alpha among Alphas, an apex-predator, with Mord-Sith magic, but the moment she saw Kahlan, the compulsion to… _test_ her, to put the Vampire’s worthiness on trial, and to even submit to her, overcame her. Master Vampires, particularly one like Kahlan, were more powerful than Weres. They were stronger, faster, and Cara could sense the potency of her magic, she could practically taste it on the air coming from her Vampire. It even stung her skin. What was even more startling was the Were hiding underneath Kahlan’s skin. Cara could tell that it was an essence that Kahlan took pains to keep in check. But whatever was happening between them had weakened her Vampire’s control over it. Cara found that it was this Were essence that was causing her Beasts to be even more… recalcitrant than usual.

Moving with Vampire quickness, Kahlan blocked an attempt to unseat her from the blonde’s torso, once again leaning down to deliciously press their bodies together. However the sensations of naked skin upon naked skin, full breasts crushed against the other, nearly caused her eyes to roll back in her head with intense pleasure. Sifting her free hand through the sweat and blood-streaked blonde hair, while her other arm still held the struggling blonde in place, she finally had Cara completely immobilized.

“Mine!” Kahlan growled. “Before the sun is up, you, I, and everyone else will know it!” With that she sat up, bringing Cara’s upper-body with her, squeezed her thighs against the Were’s torso, and then she tugged the blonde’s head back, exposing her long neck, suckling along her jawline until she reached Cara’s swollen lips. Slanting her head to gain better access to the blonde’s mouth, both women battled for dominance, moaning and whimpering as their lips and tongues danced.

Kahlan once again, pulled her lips away to begin nuzzling her mouth along that smooth, long neck, Kahlan gave a long, slow lick down a pulsating vein, her fangs lightly scraping against the sweaty skin, until she came to Cara’s pulse-point. The taste of her flesh was like getting the first high from an intensely pleasurable event. The residual tang of their fight - the blood and sweat, along with Cara’s natural scent settled in deeper, seductively coating Kahlan’s tastebuds. The dark-haired Vampire purred when she saw the bruised mark from earlier - **_her_** Mark.

Wanting so badly to sink her fangs into the blonde’s silky skin, something held her back. An instinct, the desire for Cara’s complete acquiescence. Swirling her tongue along Cara’s slightly bruised pulse-point, Kahlan reveled in the moan that rumbled forth from the blonde’s chest. She lapped, nibbled, and suckled her way down along strong, lithely muscular shoulders, laving minor cuts, mouthing bruises, before coming to the slope of Cara’s breast, the one still weeping blood from her earlier wounds. Kahlan paused, taking a moment to ground herself, because she knew that more she continue licking Cara’s blood, her control would become even less tethered.

Deeply inhaling the metallic, feral, with an under-coating of magic, scent, Kahlan lifted her eyes to see Cara watching her. With her lips hovering over the wound, she said, “Give it to me.”

Meanwhile Kahlan’s other hand had removed itself from Cara’s hair, slid down her body. The added smell of Cara’s unfettered arousal almost broke Kahlan tenuous control. She discovered that Cara’s hairless mound was coated in her juices and the taint of sweat. For Cara it was even more agonizing because Kahlan’s bottom had provided some relief, however not nearly enough. Now that her Vampire had her completely immobile, her quivering and red clitoris stood at attention, her labial lips perched swollen and needy, and her twitching, grasping hole felt empty, hoping that Kahlan’s fingers, tongue, or knee would give her release.

But her time had run out. Along with the want, the magic, her magic was bubbling forth, erupting like the beginning stage of an exploding volcano. Cara had no control over it and the more Kahlan reacted, the more the Vampire’s magic sizzled and burned from within, clashing with Cara’s, the more their magic would erupt. Perhaps this moment had been destined since Cara’s arrival to this world – when it came to Kahlan, any version, it was entirely possible. At some point Kahlan had released Cara’s hands, which were now digging into the Vampire’s shoulders, her nails gouging little wounds. She Shifted back into her human hands, moving one had moved down her own body until she came to her aching cunt, her knuckles brushed against Kahlan’s very wet pussy. Cara swiped her fingers through her folds, her moan echoing out around them, causing the Vampire to shudder as Cara coated her fingers with her warm juices. Nudging her clit a little, causing her body to jerk into Kahlan’s, she removed her fingers, bringing them back up until they stopped in front of the Vampire’s mouth.

Barely restraining herself from going mad with lust, eyes still locked on each other, Kahlan greedily inhaled their mingling scents. “I will not be your Animal to Call.” Pressing her wet fingers against Kahlan’s lips she continued, “I will be your rightful Mate,” Cara declared.

This was a bold statement. One that was unusual given that it was usually the Master Vampire, particularly one Sired by Marmee Noir that determined the terms of a Bond. However, Kahlan was smart enough, had enough self-awareness to understand that this would be no ordinary Bond. And then there was the magic. Her magic reacted to Cara in way she hadn’t been prepared for. It was powerful, instinctive, and wholly outside her control. Kahlan also instinctively knew that she had to see this process through, a chain-reaction that must complete itself.

If there was one thing she learned from Shota: life and death is a cycle, complete with infinite possibilities. But regardless of all those possibilities, in dealing in life or death, there are only those two certainties. In this world a life-span is either linear or non-linear, it is why Vampires exist, why Weres can regenerate tissue and bone, or why Necromancers exist to raise the Dead. Still holding Cara’s eyes, Kahlan leaned forward, her lips opened as her tongue slid along the length of the blonde’s wet fingers, lips wrapped hotly around them, her eyes becoming lidded as the taste exploded in her mouth.

Cara’s breathing became harsher, almost panting, growling, whimpering at the sensations of Kahlan’s mouth wrapped around her fingers, suckling the juices off. After another swirl, suck, and lap around the digits, Kahlan slowly pulled off, giving a gentle nip at the end of Cara’s fingers. Unknowingly, the magic continued to build to a crescendo around them, it leant to the overwhelming need for Kahlan to complete the Bond, as well as Cara’s need to accept it.

As the blonde slid her hand, wet with Kahlan’s saliva up along her shoulder, into the Vampire’s thick, luscious hair, it was as if something clicked inside both women, the magic swirled, dipped, and weaved itself around and through the two women.

Kahlan finally spoke, her voice sure, deepened with both the spell and arousal. “Do you give yourself to me? You will be part of me, as I will be part of you. My blood, my body is my gift to you, for all eternity.” Once again she leaned her head down, her mouth hovering over the bloody wounds along Cara’s breast.

Cara gasped and purred as the Vampire’s tongue teasingly dabbled along the edge of one bloody furrow. She leaned over Kahlan’s head, her breath ghosting hotly against the shell of Kahlan’s ear, causing her to shiver in response. “I do.” Swirling her tongue around, she dipped inside Kahlan’s ear. “But do **you** give yourself to me, Vampire? Do you accept my blood and my body? Do you accept me as your rightful Mate?”

Before answering, Kahlan reached down with both hands to firmly cup the blonde’s firm bottom, dragging the Were’s body even closer, grinding their wet centers together, nudging one clit against the other, leaving no room for air. Both women groaned or whimpered at the sensations. Cara cried out wantonly as Kahlan once again curled her head down to give a long lap along the wounds, down until her lips surrounded a turgid nipple. Sucking strongly, reveling in the cries and moans echoing around the air, she pulled up on the flesh, stretching it until only the tip remained, held lightly between her teeth. Fingers dug restlessly into her shoulder, while one wound itself in her hair.

Letting go of the tasty flesh for a moment, Kahlan locked eyes with her Mate, “I do.”

And with that she sank in her fangs into the bloody wounds, this time a loud rumbling groan accompanied the action. Shifting her body, while laying Cara back down, to allow one of Kahlan’s hands to slide down and around until her fingers had found themselves along the wet, swollen grooves of the blonde’s lower-lips, only to sink three fingers into Cara’s tight grasping hole. Salacious sounds of Kahlan feeding and fucking echoed around them. Cara’s body violently shuddered, her hips twisting and thrusting as if trying to get more of her lover’s fingers inside, as her inner-muscles gripped, caressed, and twitched their way around Kahlan’s plunging digits.

Gripping Cara even tighter to gain more purchase, the blonde responded by wrapping her toned legs around Kahlan’s waist, allowing the Vampire more access to the blonde’s cunt. Adding another finger, making it four, Cara could barely restrain herself from cumming. All night they’d unwittingly entered into a dance where the foreplay ensued hours earlier, leaving Cara on the edge for what felt like an eternity. Her clit felt thunderous and hard, as if someone cut off the blood supply at its base, only to watch it balloon with tension. Every pull from Kahlan’s lips seemed directly connected to her throbbing nub, increasing its sensitivity so much so that it was now bordering on pleasure-pain.

This was added by the pleasure-pain of Vampire’s sharp fangs embedded deeply into muscle and tissue, releasing special toxins being into her bloodstream, contrasted by the intense pleasure of Kahlan’s fingers filling her, pressing, thrusting inside her, causing her own magic to swirl and dip inside her making Cara dizzy from the all the varying sensations.  Cara knew that it wouldn’t take much to send her over the edge. Her control with her Beasts and magic were becoming less and less certain. She could feel her Beasts howling and roaring, shuddering inside her, pressing against her metaphysical shields as they participated in the Mating, wanting to get at Kahlan’s Beast hiding, prowling underneath her skin.

Kahlan was almost becoming light-headed from the exquisite taste of her blonde-haired lover; it went beyond to simply tasting. Cara’s Were-blood and otherworldly magic filled her veins, crashed against her own cells, filling them, until Kahlan’s blood singed, bulged along her veins, increasing pressure. Had they shifted focus beyond their complete absorption in each other, they would have noticed that aside from a magical protective cyclonic shield surrounding them, trees began to bend, dirt, leaves, and other debris whipped around them like an inverted tornado.

But this spell was awakening more than an ancient Vampire Mating ritual, it was also awakening, morphing the existing Mord-Sith magic inside Cara, sending it into a state of frenzy. The ritual magic coursed hotly through her veins, through her blood, clashing, and then caressing it, before it too exploded outwards. Like a balloon being filled to bursting, Cara began to plead. “P-pleeasse. Fuck!” She almost didn’t know what she was asking for.

But when those fingers nudged, pressed, and firmly massaged a patch of nerves inside her, while Kahlan’s thumb stroked the underside of glands in her quivering clit, Cara found herself letting go. As the magic and orgasm exploded out from her womb, her core, from her soul into Kahlan, and back into Cara, causing her Vampire lover to almost rip her mouth from Cara’s breasts, when her blonde lover began screaming in pleasure. Almost insensate, Kahlan was able to gingerly remove her fangs from Cara’s flesh, blood coursing out from the wounds, dribbling down Kahlan’s chin, staining her mouth red, to splatter against their heaving breasts.

With one hand still clamped on Cara’s golden firm thigh, while her leg propped the Cara’s other thigh open, Kahlan found her mouth watering again. The scent of hot cum pouring from her Were’s cunt was enticing. Almost subconsciously, Kahlan pressed Cara’s thigh further apart, lewdly opening the blonde’s weeping center while she lapped her way down Cara’s body. Flushed a deep pink, swollen labial lips, and a quivering red nub among the tufts of blonde hair. Her opening was still fluttering, cumming around Kahlan’s four fingers thrusting inside.

But Kahlan now hungered for another taste. Raising her glowing, glittering eyes to Cara’s, she marveled at her beautiful, heavy-lidded, jade-green eyes. Kahlan waited, watching Cara momentarily come down from her ferocious orgasm. But from the clenching around fingers and still undulating hips, Kahlan could discern that one orgasm wasn’t going to be enough for her blonde-haired lover.

A perfectly-manicured blonde eyebrow slowly rose on Cara’s forehead. “I don’t think your fingers are gonna be enough.” Cara lifted one of her hands to Kahlan’s chin, swiping up the blood, before bringing her fingers up to press against her Vampire’s lips.

Kahlan immediately opened her mouth as once again, Cara sensuously pushed her blood-smeared fingers inside. Swirling her tongue along the digits, Kahlan began sucking causing Cara to shudder in response. At one point her index finger brushed against one of Kahlan’s sensitive fangs, splitting the skin. Moaning in pleasure, the Vampire began to firmly suck on Cara’s two fingers, all the while intensely staring into her lover’s eyes. The blonde removed her fingers before bending her body down as she reached down to tug Kahlan’s mouth back up to hers. Once again both women devoured each other, tongues twining, mapping out the inside of each other’s mouths, Kahlan purring when Cara purposely allowed her tongue to get nicked by her fangs, allowing more of her intoxicating blood to fill Kahlan’s mouth.

Finally, Cara lifted her mouth her Vampire’s to hoarsely whisper, “Now why don’t you use that mouth for something else. I’m practically gushing for you.”

With a purring-growl, Kahlan pressed another hot open-mouth kiss on Cara’s mouth before shifting back. Cara briefly took in Kahlan’s heaving breasts, painted with sweat and blood, her thick dark hair tangled along her shoulders, making Cara lose focus with how incredibly stunning her Mate was. Becoming impatient, Cara helpfully allowed her dark-haired lover to once again, press her firm, muscular thighs up and wide, lewdly exposing her pink swollen folds. Realizing that she still hadn’t removed her clenched hand and nails from Kahlan’s strong shoulder, Cara used both hands to reach up to cup those beautiful, lush breasts; her fingers once again tugging, twisting, and sharply pulling up on those thickly-erect nipples.

Pressing her chest into those fingers, thoroughly enjoying the pleasure-pain from Cara’s fingers, Kahlan reached one hand down to spread open the blonde’s swollen and pink labia, reveling in the girl-cum still leaking out Cara’s pulsating hole. With her other hand she swiped through Cara’s wetness and brought her wet finger to her lips, her eyes closing at the potent mix of Cara’s cum and blood.

Still holding her open, Kahlan returned that finger to slide smoothly inside her Were. “Ooohh, you’re still gushing and it’s all for me.” Pressing deeper, glancing over sensitive nerve endings inside. Cara shuddered, tightening down on Kahlan’s finger as she started to remove the digit, whimpering a protest at its removal.

“Now, now, my pet.” Kahlan shifted further back and on her knees before that splayed open cunt, leaning in until her nose almost grazed Cara’s quivering clit, the blonde undulating, desperate for Kahlan to continue.  Leaning back a little, she reached down; fingers still wet from Cara’s cum, and leveled three gentle spanks against Cara’s wet folds, jarring her engorged nub. 

“Be good and I’ll make you cum again,” she whispered huskily.

Suddenly Kahlan gave a languorous lap through the blonde’s folds, causing Cara to cry out. Teasingly pressing the tip of her tongue against Cara’s nub, Kahlan continued to lewdly hold open the Were’s labial lips, allowing her to tongue lap up through every crevice and valley to Cara’s intense pleasure. Meanwhile the blonde Alpha began to feel lightheaded – after cumming so hard only mere moments before, she wanted, needed more from Kahlan. She felt empty and she was still feeling smaller quakes inside her cunt, particularly when Kahlan probed with her finger or dabbled with her tongue as she was doing now.

And there was still something else; _something_ that stood on the edge of her metaphysical barrier. It was dark, chilling, powerful, and… angry. However, before she could give it more thought, Kahlan was shoving her entire tongue inside her, reaching far, swirling and nudging against responsive nerve-endings, swallowing the leaking wetness sliding into ready mouth. Her Vampire curled arms tightly around her hips, until one hand reached out with fingers to begin plucking and squeezing her now bulbous clit.

“Gods! Don’t stop…Kahlan!” Cara’s hand found its way into Kahlan thick dark hair, clenching her fingers around dark strands, holding her in place as she grinded pussy against her lover’s mouth.

Hissing, she could feel an even stronger hot swell of spell-crafting and orgasm peaking up from her core, to swell over her chest, stiffening her aching and sore nipples even more, to pool into her stomach, narrowing down on her pulsating clit. It swept up and around Kahlan’s tongue, which was being squeezed down from Cara’s fluttering honey walls. And it built and built until it swept down into Kahlan’s mouth, down into her chest, to encase the suddenly beating organ called her heart, continue through her arteries, to pool deep down into her core where her magic was stored.

When Kahlan realized that she’d been screaming, along with Cara’s hoarse shouts, she retracted her tongue, replacing it with her fingers as the powerful magic battered against her senses. She shifted up until she could slide her arms underneath Cara’s shoulders, clasping the Were’s quaking body against hers. Nuzzling her lips against Cara’s pulse-point, she could only hold on as her lover continued to cum, even as the magic continued to swell. Until Kahlan felt _it_.  There, riding on the edges of their magic: a **_Darkness_**.  A **_Darkness_** Kahlan was familiar with and it was trying to break through their defenses. The scent of thunderstorms and jasmine grew stronger until it became cloying and thick. A trickle of cold dread slithered down her spine. Since Cara was insensate, Kahlan frantically began to shore up her metaphysical defenses. She hoped to make them strong enough to help strengthen Cara’s by extension. Suddenly, Kahlan had never been so thankful to have Claimed someone as she was now. They were intrinsically connected in a way humans would never understand, both physically and metaphysically. Kahlan hoped it would serve her well now because it was at this moment that she realized that the threads that tied her to her Maker, Marmee Noir, had unraveled, becoming strained, and very weak.

How this happened Kahlan could only attribute to whatever compulsive Mating spell they’d inadvertently unleashed. Now that she was becoming even more aware, the grip of powerful lust magic that had grabbed her up and held her tight, casting its net over Cara, had dissipated. Even though she’d like to process the certifiably remarkable, otherworldly series of events that led her, them, to this moment, there was no time. Kahlan knew Mother; she knew that Mother rarely, if ever countenanced losing things. Marmee Noir was exceedingly possessive and like an over-grown child throwing a temper-tantrum, would either ferociously cling to or fight for something she believed was hers. And if she lost it, she became vengeful. And it wasn’t because she loved or cared about her – Kahlan believed that Mother had long ago lost the ability for complex emotional connections other than the basest: hunger, want, or rage.

However, Kahlan knew she had little time, not when a sense of darkness continued to envelope them, trying to push its way through her barriers, almost breaking through, gearing up to attack once again. The attacks grew in strengthening waves each time, causing Kahlan to protectively grip her blonde lover even tighter to her. Hissing, Kahlan narrowed her eyes, concentrating, digging deep for a powerful protective and repelling spell, wishing Morgana was nearby. Her Beast momentarily grew quiet, and then as if sensing Its Mate was in trouble, began to metaphysically pace and growl threateningly. But Kahlan knew that if she were to break her concentration in any way, even to contact Morgana for help, it might provide the break Marmee Noir needed to swoop in. Looking down into her lover’s face, Kahlan watched as those brilliant green eyes fluttered open, looking confused.

“Cara, I need you to focus.” She whispered urgently. “Listen to my voice, that’s it, focus.” Cara felt like she was swimming up through warm, thick syrup. She’d quickly gained alertness when she felt something pushing against her psychic barriers, along with the strong sense of fear and worry emanating from Kahlan. Now that they’d been Mated, they were psychically and spiritually bound. they had the ability to have entire conversations in their minds, but more importantly, Cara would now had an empathic connection to her dark-haired lover.

It was these strong emotions that told Cara that something was wrong, if the darkness attempting to break through her metaphysical barriers didn’t clue her in. “Wh--…” Cara had to clear her throat that had grown hoarse and dry from the loud cries she’d recently let loose. Trying again, she swallowed thickly. “What’s wrong?”

“I need to connect with your magical core for a few moments. Something is attacking us and it wants to spiritually possess us. And knowing her, nothing good will come from it – that includes never leaving until either you or me, likely both of us are dead.” Shifting up until she completely laid over her blonde lover, Kahlan interlocked both hands with Cara’s.

Becoming more alert by the second, particularly after Kahlan’s urgent explanation, Cara knew without any uncertainty, that she’d do whatever she could to protect Kahlan. “Do what you need to. Who?”  
  
Taking a deep breath she didn’t need, Kahlan’s magic began seeping into Cara’s skin, down through muscle and bone, until it connected with something that would never show up in all the modern medicine scans. “The Mother of Darkness. Our Maker.”  
  
Even though Cara was just beginning to get a hang of this world’s technology and culture, everyone in the preternatural world had heard of the Marmee Noir. Less fiction and more legend, the Mother was the ultimate boogeyman, whose actual physical form varied from a gigantic Amazon to a demon-like creature. Few actually knew what she looked like, and those who did never talked. “Will it be enough?”

Dipping her head, pressing a soft kiss against Cara’s swollen ones, Kahlan considered her question. “Mother is having a tantrum. Of epic proportions. I suspect she is angry because my link with her has been drastically weakened through whatever Mating spell we’ve completed.”

Almost humming as their magic once again reached out towards, curling around each other like a double-helix, it created a warm, spicy, and content sensation inside Cara. ‘Seeing’ their combined essence beginning to gather around them like a cloud, it created a powerful barrier, reinforcing their older wards. The dark-haired Vampire, whispered against her lips. “Close your eyes. Just… feel.”

Smirking against Kahlan’s lips, Cara answered. “I’ve been ‘feeling’ all night, what’s a little more?”

Lightly nipping her full bottom lip, Kahlan mentally rolled her eyes. “Focus please.”  
  
With that, Kahlan began doubling down because she could feel the strain of Mother pushing back, no doubt realizing that Kahlan was strengthening their wards, preventing Mother from entering one of their bodies. Kahlan (and Cara) could practically hear the shriek of fury emanating down the weakened link from Marmee Noir. Cara’s eyes flew open, glowing jade-green, emanating Power. Kahlan squeezed their hands in warning for silence and no distractions – she couldn’t afford them because she’d pissed off her Maker even more.

Meanwhile Cara expanded her own, sharing her Power, seeing a 3D-like image in the distance. A delicate woman with ankle-length, dark-hair, mouth stained red, wearing a blood-stained white gown, sitting up, her tiny moue mouth moving, but Cara couldn’t hear the words.  The figure was small, but it didn’t detract that there was something… **dark** and powerfulabout her. And that **darkness** was focused on Cara and Kahlan. Even more disturbing was the Partially-Shifted hands into huge claws of a large cat, clenching and tearing the sheets of the bed she was lying in.

The strong smell of jasmine and thunderstorms began to grow thickened even more around them, becoming cloying. “Cara, I really need you to focus because she’s really mad.”

Suddenly, Cara had an idea. “Kahlan,” she waited for her lover to focus on her. “Bite me again… and fuck me. But this time, I’m going to return the favor.”

Frowning, Kahlan started to protest, straining even more as Marmee battered their psychic walls. “Wh—“  
  
“Blood and sex always gives more power…” She didn’t even have to illuminate further because Kahlan’s eyes widened, before darkening, understanding exactly what her lover meant.

Letting go of one hand, Kahlan placed her palm onto Cara’s toned thigh, before smoothing it up, her fingers already reaching spilled juices from earlier, and then using the tips of her fingers to rim the blonde’s opening. She was still soaked from their earlier mating. But Kahlan had an idea, one that needed to be implemented quickly. Smoothly shifting down Cara’s sweaty torso, down her muscled abdomen, until she came to the tangy-sweet and spicy-scented cunt. Tickling Cara’s clit with her tongue, once again it was already edging its way out of its hood, Kahlan surprised Cara by swinging her legs around until her knees settled on either side of Cara’s shoulders, her own swollen, needy cunt hanging above Cara’s mouth like ripened fruit.

Taking a long lap through Cara’s soaked folds, eyes rolling back as she lapped up the cum and fresh juices spilling from the blonde’s sex, until she reached an arterial vein near Cara’s pussy. Pushing her fingers in, Kahlan lifted her head. “I need you to bite me at the same time. To complete th—the, cir-cirle.” Already Cara’s tongue plunging inside the Vampire’s weeping sex, gathering her juices on her tongue, and growling in pleasure at the exquisite taste.

Settling the tips of her fangs against the vein, she waited a moment before she felt the press of Cara’s Shifted fangs pressing against Kahlan. A moment later, three fingers pressed themselves into Kahlan’s hot cunt, right as Cara started to bite down, signaling Kahlan to do the same. For a moment their barriers had weakened almost catching Marmee by surprise, causing the magical attack to become briefly unfocused, allowing Kahlan and Cara the time to weave their spell. By the time she caught on and once again struck, almost creeping past Kahlan and Cara’s barriers, both women’s fangs had slid through skin and tissue like butter, and fingers pushed deep and curled. Undulating bodies became more violent as the blood pooled in their mouths, coating tastebuds, dribbling down their throats, reaching into their veins, inciting, strengthening… evolving their magic, their souls. If one looked up into the clear night sky, as both Nicci and Morgana did at that moment, they would see two nebulous pools of green and blue, rising like some kind of brilliant humanoid-shaped auroras.

It was beautiful and even from within the house, they could feel the spell-crafting, the Power, causing both women to shiver in response as washed over them like heat. Both women shared a look, followed by Nicci exclaiming, “What in the name of Underworld is that?!”

Turning back to the unusual sight, Morgana grew still. “My Mistress and yours, no doubt.”

Meanwhile, Kahlan began to feel lightheaded, growing tired as Marmee worked even more to get to them.  It wasn’t until Cara somehow leant her even more strength that she was able to coalesce their Power and then hit back at Marmee like a sledgehammer. As Cara’s fingers were rubbing, stroking, and circling that area inside her, creating that wonderful knot of tension to expand, her walls to flutter and spasm around the blonde’s fingers, almost mirroring the same exact motions from Kahlan except she’d finally removed her fangs, and now was lashing the tip of her tongue against Cara’s clit. The sledgehammer grew in strength, pushing Marmee beyond their barriers even more and as their shared blood began feeding their magic. So too did their mutual orgasms, until with a thunderous, silent magical boom that would be felt well beyond their makeshift love-nest, Marmee Noir was completely pushed out, severing their connection forever.

Kahlan wasn’t even able to process that loss because like a rubber-band that had been snapped, the momentarily sensation of loss and pain was taken over by the ferocious orgasm as her clit trembled and cunt fluttered around her lover’s mouth and fingers. Cara reveled in the taste of Kahlan, her face practically shoved deep into Kahlan’s sex, not wanting to miss out on a drop. The momentary sensations of emptiness and loss she felt emanating from her Mate, was drowned out when Kahlan began cumming. Cara could also feel their coalesced magic whipping around them, until the orgasm, followed by the explosion of magic, had her almost blacking out once again.

Silence filled the space between them as they attempted to recover. Shifting onto her back, one hand soaked with cum, the other had her nails embedded into her lover’s groin muscle, her chest heaving with nipples stiff and sore from their activities, their bodies stained with blood, sweat, dirt, and juices. She struggled to not become overwhelmed. Marmee Noir was her Maker, she’d been her… everything for more centuries than she could count.

 Kahlan suffered through all her explosive tantrums, her psychotic episodes, to her weirdly distant affection that was both unsettling and welcoming. They shared a connection through blood, deepening until it rattled into Kahlan’s soul. Because she believed that Vampires had souls; what they did with those souls was an entirely different story, and just as humans had the ability to twist and destroy their souls, so too could Vampires.

However Marmee challenged her beliefs on many levels – perhaps she’d been in existence so long that her ability to connect with her soul had long evaded her. Some said she embodied the existence of evil, but then Kahlan could count on more than one hand the humans who embodied the same quality. Ultimately it came down to fear; people, creatures feared what they did not understand, and Kahlan had long since given up trying to discern Marmee. What she did know was that Mother enhanced and warped base emotions like hunger and jealousy, coupled with her Powers made her a fearsome adversary. So fearsome that Kahlan had vowed to never be on the wrong end of her attentions. It was a clear that that was no longer a promise she could keep and she feared the repercussions in the coming days.

Yet… the loss was deep and poignant causing Kahlan to feel the sting of blood-tears filling her eyes. It was only the sensation of Cara’s magic curling around hers, and the feel of her hot skin and body melted alongside her own that somewhat calmed her. But Kahlan knew a storm was coming and it would be in the form of Mother.


	28. Chapter 28

Kahlan and Cara sheepishly stared at the destruction they wrought within the room to the amusement of their gathered minions. The room could barely hold everyone; particularly Kahlan’s much larger group. Through their link with their Mistresses, all of them could feel the magical fall-out and subsequent bond that formed between Kahlan and Cara. At the moment, Berdine and Dennee stood slightly in front of everyone, debriefing the two powerful women of their unanticipated actions and departure from the important gathering earlier. The two unlikely allies shared a brief look before continuing their report. To the side stood Nicci and Morgana, the later looked… disconcerted.

“As we were saying, we’ve managed to reschedule another meeting. Although this time, there will be fewer in attendance.” Dennee had had more than enough of playing diplomacy. It had been all she could do to prevent herself from tearing out the Necromancer’s throat after questioning her Mistress’ honor. If Jean-Claude hadn’t interfered with, in her mind, a less than adequate reprimand, she might have pounced. And from the look on Berdine’s face, it appeared that she was not the only one who felt insulted.

All in all, not even upon pain of death, would Dennee admit that the evening was one of the more entertaining she’d had in eons. She suspected that she wasn’t the only one who felt this way and now that the two groups were… bonded, for lack of a better word, through their Mistresses, Dennee believed that things would only become even more interesting.

“I believe we were able to divert their suspicions for a short while, but we should prepare for possible… inquiries through other means.” Cara frowned at Berdine’s pronouncement.

“In other words, along with spying, they may try to corner one of our people for interrogation.” Cara shrugged. “It’s what I would do.” But then she smirked. “Of course, my idea of interrogation would be a great deal more titillating then anything that lot could come up with.”

Rolling her eyes, Kahlan stepped over to a recently procured chair to heavily sink into its comforting softness. Wearily rubbing along her temple, even as her eyes were drawn to her blonde-haired lover, the Vampire stifled the desire to seek physical contact with her. With their Bond so fresh, she had to work on preventing herself from ordering everyone from the room to curl around her lover, or grabbing Cara up to lock themselves away in another room. From the slightly heavy-lidded look being directed her way from Cara, Kahlan suspected her blonde lover felt the same.

An unnamed emotion flickered through her gaze, making Kahlan tilt her head in consideration, until the echo of the residual resulting magic twitched through her, making her shift her gaze somewhere else. Unbeknownst to Kahlan, along with the need to be pressed close to her Vampire lover, Cara could feel the mild sense of loss echoing down through her bond from Kahlan. She also sensed Kahlan’s attempts to distance herself from Cara and she ferociously shoved down any hurt it elicited.

Cara was mindful her Bond-Mate Kahlan, was a Master Vampire of the 1st Brood of Marmee Noir’s Line. Rarer still was that she was both a Were and a Vampire, something that should be impossible. Learning these facts during their magical… exchange, hadn’t allowed Cara a moment to process the extraordinary evidence. Not when she’d been busy thrumming through multiple orgasms, feeding off of the most potent blood she’d ever had, trying to ward off an attack against a very powerful Vampire, and all the while going through very powerful bonding magic. It was during this exchange that Cara witnessed the phantom visual of Kahlan Were-Sabertooth-Tiger. Pure white fur, with black stripes, long sharp ivory canines, and glittering ice-blue eyes inside its great head. It was an impressive sight.

Once they’d somehow become more lucid, they’d had little time for awkwardness because Partially-Shifted Sergio, Rikka, and Garren had come crashing into their little ‘love nest.’ Mostly unconcerned about their mutual nakedness and evidence of their mating, it wasn’t until Garren had made some kind of overture towards Kahlan that their first issue as a Mated couple came up. Whether it was jealousy or possessiveness, it immediately caused Cara to respond with her own brand of possessiveness and dominance.

Garren may be Kahlan’s pomme de’ sang, but she was definitely submissive to a powerful Were like Cara, and her blonde Mate made sure Garren **knew** it. Kahlan stifled the need to interfere out of concern for Garren -- she was no match for Cara, but she’d managed to catch herself, trusting Cara to set the boundaries in this new reality. Using sheer intimidation, within moments Cara had Garren kneeling with her upper-body pressed to the ground in submission. All without laying a hand on her. Honey, Maxine, and Nicci met them at the house with robes, and looks of concern.

Following that was a series of rapid questions, the current debriefing of the fall-out from their meeting at Jean-Claude’s, and simply tried to gain their equilibrium after everything that had occurred. They also knew they’d need to talk with their Lieutenants and their seconds to prepare for the real fall-out from Kahlan essentially cutting her Bond with **_Marmee Noir_**. Shifting her eyes once again to her Mate, they both shared a long look as they acknowledged their considerable worry, but also the barely hidden simmering need for the other. 


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** Yikes! I can't believe it's been almost a year since I last updated! Apologies are barely enough, so I hope that this update, with the promise to update in January will suffice. Needless to say, it's been a tough year, which hasn't inspired my muse for many months. Luckily she's been reawakened and here are the results, I sincerely hope you like it. 
> 
> Again, thank you, thank you to everyone who sent kudos, or is following this story. It makes all the difference in the world.
> 
> Happy Holidays!

Across town, Anita was having trouble, major trouble. Marmee Noir was attempting to establish a connection –  in Marmee terms meant hijacking Anita’s body and causing havoc. Anita could ‘taste’ her fury like the sting of sulfur coating her nostrils. Currently, Jean-Claude and Nathaniel were trying to hold her down. Richard held down her ankles, with Rafael and Micah standing over her, all of them lending their power to help beat back Marmee Noir.

“Mon dieu! What did you do?!” Asher exclaimed.

“Me?! I…” she panted, straining against the bonds holding her down, and the one attempting to take over her body, “didn’t do anything!”

When the whites of her eyes suddenly bled away to be replaced by onyx-colored irises, irises that began to glitter like a starry night, the other occupants in the room knew their efforts were becoming futile. It was the wall of heat, coated in lust erupting from Anita suggested that their time had run out. Anita’s back bowed as the potent lust-magic, the _Ardeur_ encompassed her body, sweeping through the air like ether. The scent of thunderstorms and jasmine grew thick in the air, which often signaled the presence of Marmee Noir.

The magic had specific targets in mind, with the idea of feeding, opening a metaphysical hole big enough for Marmee to step through, inhabiting Anita’s body, permanently. Or at least long enough to find her rebellious Childe and make an example of her and her brood. When Anita’s body stilled for a moment, her eyes shut, giving the men pause, they looked on in wary surprise, certain that her sudden stillness meant nothing good. Her silver necklace with a cross started to glow white-hot, almost sizzling her skin, becoming so bright it was like staring into the sun. Nathaniel reached over to snatch it off of her skin, burning the palm of his hand in the process – a common poisonous reaction to any Were.

Suddenly Anita sat up with no apparent effort, like a puppet whose strings had been pulled, her eyes opened with the same creepy starry-night eyes. Slowly her head turned to stare straight at Jean-Claude who’d been hovering nearby. The Master Vampire knew it was no longer Anita, but the deadly Marmee Noir. He ignored the cold knot of fear slithering down his spine, hoping upon hope that Anita was able to fight back, using her own magic – the power of the Necromancer.

Slowly creeping closer, Nathaniel wanted to wrap himself around Anita’s body, hoping to give her strength. Instead Jean-Claude sent a warning glance at him. “Not yet. We do not know what Marmee Noir wants.”

“Indeed. You are from Belle’s Line.” The voice was Anita’s, but the words were stilted, hoarse, as if it hadn’t been used in a long time. Not needing an answer, Anita’s head slowly swiveled in Nathaniel’s direction, oddly, creepily tilting it as if to get a better look at the beautiful young Were-Leopard. Flaring her nostrils as if trying to find a scent, her gaze narrowed, her body becoming even more unnaturally still.

The tension in the room rocketed, all eyes on Anita-Marmee and Nathaniel. A sinister smile slowly grew upon her face, right before the _Ardeur_ grew like a large wave of water, slamming into Nathaniel and anyone else standing nearby. Narrowing her gaze, Anita surged at the Were-Leopard her mouth taking his in a hard-kiss, her teeth nipping his lip, drawing blood. This was the _Ardeur_ in her its purest, strongest form, stronger than even from Belle Morte, and it needed to be fed both via sex and blood. A great deal of it. Bodies surged around Anita, mouths nipping at her skin, ripping her clothes from her body, nails some partially-Shifted, raking across skin drawing blood.

Jean-Claude tried to fight it; after all he was Master of the City. But this was the Mother of Darkness, Marmee Noir, even half-weakened, in a borrowed body, she was still powerful. It was only after Anita, through her link with her pomme de sang Nathaniel, Micah the power of the Were-Leopard, her other Triumvirate bond with Jean-Claude and Richard’s his power of the Wolf, as well as the power of Rafael’s connection to all Rats, exchanged orgasms and blood, were they were able to begin pushing back.

Mouth stained red and wet with body fluids and tissues, and more blood – after all her Beasts, her magic needed… a sacrifice, and the Mother of Darkness wanted her pound of flesh. Nathaniel and Asher ended up being her main victims, but every male in the room gave something. It also didn’t help that Anita’s connection to the Wolves’ _munin_ , Raina who reveled in this kind of violent sex, made an inconvenient appearance. Unfortunately, it was she who provided the idea to connect all their power to help provoke Anita’s own innate magic. Naturally she only ‘helped’ if there was pain and blood and chaos in return.

With Nathaniel’s member lodged deep inside her as she sat atop the bruised and bloodied Were-male, Anita was leaning over, her mouth searching for a spot that would appease her need for… flesh. The meaty portion of a well-toned pectoral muscle allowed her teeth to find purchase, her Beasts rattling their metaphysical cages, before biting down, blood filling her mouth, as Nathaniel arched in pleasure-pain, releasing deep inside her.

Reaching deep, with the help of her Beasts, the power of the Wolf, Leopard, Rat, and Master Vampire, Anita was able to call forth her own magic, Necromancy. Ultimately, Mother was a Vampire, the Undead, and Necromancy held power over even her. Suddenly her eyes filled with her own dark-brown, which began glowing brown fire, heat became a coldness seeping through the air as death magic filled the room.

They could almost hear the screech of fury as Marmee Noir was finally pushed out and away, leaving all the room’s occupants littered naked around the bed, bloodied and bruised, and panting. Some like Asher and Jean-Claude had momentarily passed out from the wash of necromancy, and loss of blood. Nathaniel, being weakest of all of them since he was submissive to everyone in the room, in addition to the loss of blood and fluids, passed out from exhaustion, a small smile of contentment on his face. Not surprising considering he was the kinkiest of the bunch.

Ferociously pushing up through the fog of magic, sex, and blood, right before Anita gave into to rising tide of dark unconsciousness, she looked at a tired and weary Jean-Claude. “She’s so angry. She lost something. Something very important to her.” Her eyes grew dimmer as her eyelids grew heavier. “And she’s looking to take it back.”

 

***

 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Crunching into an apple to delay her response, Cara removed her robe before fluidly and unselfconsciously plopping down onto on overstuffed chair, snuggling into it.  “Well, I think we’ll need a bigger house.”

Rolling her eyes, Kahlan was starting to realize that her Mate was a tad… impetuous. And she wasn’t sure if she’d ever admit that she found it an attractive quality. As a Master Vampire, one of the 1st Brood, Kahlan had every right to demand absolute obedience. But she found that this was not something she wanted from Cara. They’d recently spent an entire, wearisome evening debriefing and planning for their now combined group. A group that any Master of the City worth their weight, would find threatening.  

Then she had met with Morgana separately to talk about the possible ramifications of the Bonding magic between Cara and her. It was at that time, that Morgana told her about the legend of the Vampire’s **Confessor Bond**. At first, Kahlan wanted to deny that this occurred between her and Cara, but she instinctively knew there was something to it. Spellcrafting, no matter how ancient, existed. The words or rituals may have been lost, but it still seeped into the earth or floated on as random energy waves. It simply needed the right trigger to reactivate and/or focus it.

When the blonde Were-Mage, Nicci joined them, she too supported Morgana’s theory. After some consideration, Kahlan swore both women to secrecy. Morgana looked affronted; after all her first and only loyalty was to Kahlan. Nicci needed some convincing. But before Kahlan could order her, Morgana stepped into the fray.

“You do know the hierarchy has changed? For all of us. You can either be a part of the inner-circle, or…” she walked closer to Nicci, reaching up and curling a blonde lock around her finger, as she stepped flush against Nicci’s body, “not.”

She enjoyed watching and smelling the swell of arousal and blood, as Nicci flushed in response to Morgana. But then Nicci slid an arm around Morgana’s back, bending her head forward until her lips barely grazed the Vampire’s. “Fine. But you’ll owe me.”

A slow smile graced her face, her fangs gleaming white and dangerous. “Well then I cannot wait for you to collect.”

Slightly grinning, Kahlan, not for the first time that evening, wondered just how interesting life was about to become with the addition of this group of women. And Cara. With a swirl of her robes, Kahlan left the two women and sought out Cara. She was tired of fighting the instinct to be with her and with sunrise only an hour away, she wanted her Mate naked and curled around her.

After instructing her Tribe that their room was off-limits, meaning no puppy-piles, Cara directed Kahlan to her bedroom, which is where they were currently sequestered. Watching with glittering eyes as Kahlan shrugged her robe from body, leaving her dark-haired lover naked and standing proudly before her, Cara found herself unraveling herself from her seat to sit on the edge of the chair with her feet on the ground. A barely there growl leaked from lips when she saw her Mating bite-mark. She liked seeing it there. Beckoning with her hands until Kahlan stepped in between her legs, Cara’s mouth watered as she took in the now clean scent of new arousal as she nuzzled the smooth skin of Kahlan’s abdomen.

Both women had had the opportunity to shower after their earlier activities. The overpowering stench of cum and blood in a roomful of Vampires and Weres, made it seem as if both women were pumping the air full of pheromones. However, even underneath the freshly washed skin, both women could still smell their intermingled scents on each other’s skin. Sliding her warm hands up along Kahlan’s freshly showered supple thighs, while the dark-haired Vampire placed her hands on Cara’s shoulders, the Were tilted her head up to stare into darkened purplish-blue eyes. Cupping her shapely bottom in her hands, Cara tugged her forward even closer until Kahlan was straddling her lap. Sitting down and curling her arms around Cara’s neck, Kahlan took in her own Mating marks left on the blonde. She didn’t bother denying the vicious sense of satisfaction at the sight.

Cara was hers and now everyone else would know. “You know what this means don’t you?” She brushed her fingers along those bite marks, eliciting a slight shiver at the pleasure-pain sensation.

“That we’ll be spending our days fucking and fighting?” Cara leaned close to nip at the skin of Kahlan’s neck.

Tipping her head back, allowing Cara to suckle and nip and lap up along her neck and jawline, even as she raised an elegant eyebrow at Cara’s comment. Not answering for the moment, raking her hands through Cara’s hair, she momentarily stilled her attentions. “It means you will be very busy in the coming days.” Then she grew serious, muting the lust simmering in her eyes. “And it means you are mine. Forever.” Tilting in head in askance, she added, “Do you think you can handle that?”

“Do you think you can handle me?” Leaning even closer to brush her still swollen lips against Kahlan’s, Cara asked, “That wasn’t a simple mating, Kahlan. That was a powerful spell, the kind you get when a special bond is taking place.”

It was at that moment, that Kahlan realized that Cara might be a magic-user and more knowledgeable than she’d anticipated. She found herself needing to be honest. “Yes.” This time it was she who leaned down to press her lips against Cara, deepening the kiss for a few delicious moments. But she could feel the sunrise coming. “Take me to bed.”

“As you wish,” Cara responded. Tugging Kahlan’s lips back onto hers, her tongue seeking and gaining entrance, while she smoothly flowed from her seat, her hands gripping and holding her Vampire’s thighs to her body as Kahlan wrapped her legs around her waist. Cara walked them slowly to the side of huge bed, her knees hitting the mattress as she gently lowered her lover onto the bed. Briefly raising her lips from Kahlan, Cara snuck a look outside and saw the muted shadow of a sunrise. “It also means, you belong to me too. And clearly I was born to handle it because somehow I don’t think the magic would have activated otherwise.”

But by now, Kahlan was too tired to respond. Cara shifted until she curled herself protectively around her lover’s body as she covered them with blankets. Leaning over once again to briefly kiss her Kahlan to sleep, Cara tiredly laid her head on her shoulder, allowing the lust to simmer low, cuddling into her body, as her own eyes grew heavy with exhaustion.

 


	30. Chapter 30

Dennee sipped her drink of red-wine and blood as she took in the room’s occupants, some of whom were making it apparent that the trust factor would need to be worked out before they could present a united front within the coming days. Such a clichéd statement wouldn’t ever enter her mind, except these were extraordinary circumstances. In addition, there were serious problems that would need to be dealt with outside of these premises, with St. Louis’ preternatural community and Master of the City. When Dahlia hissed angrily at one of Cara’s clan members, Dennee decided she’d had enough.

Standing up alerted everyone, causing the room’s occupants to pause. So far, Dennee had remained quiet and observant while Athena, Garen or Sergio bargained, argued, cajoled, and threatened each other. Morgana had been suspiciously absent with another of Cara’s blonde Were clan-members. Ultimately, Dennee was Kahlan’s most trusted lieutenant if Morgana wasn’t around to manage things. Preferably Dennee would rather be the quiet force behind Kahlan while Morgana was the more obvious threat. When that was not possible, then Dennee had no qualms about stepping into being a true second-in-command, like now.

“Silence!” She allowed her Power and dominance to exude through her aura until eyes dropped to the ground, or others knelt in submission. “I believe we need to come to some kind of understanding.” Walking to the center of the room, she continued. “Or rather **you** need to come to an understanding. There is a new reality you must all face, a new world order as it were.” Letting her greenish-blue eyes narrow and glow she slowly glared around the room. “This new world order means you will follow or you will die. I will not allow **any** disobedience or disloyalty. The stakes are simply too high for undisciplined behavior.”

“This consists of a Confessor-Bond that we must all protect. They are our Masters and Mistress. When they are available, we will have an opportunity to reassert our Bond to our new Masters, as well as outline what the new hierarchy will be going forward.” Her countenance hardened even more. “But know this, the new hierarchy will include myself, Mistress Morgana, and” she shifted her gaze towards Cara’s clan member, “and Mistress Nikki. How we will share our responsibilities will be determined by our Masters. Until then, we will do everything possible to ensure the protection of our Masters and this Clan. Because that is what we now are: The Amnell Clan.”

Morgana and Nicci had arrived, taking in the scene and the words. Both women shared a look and nod. Walking forward until they flanked either side Dennee, signaling support for the blonde Vampire’s words, as well as the stated new world order. All of which was necessary with the strength and size of their new clan. If left too long, the bond between their clans would weaken, contention would grow among their members, making easier for their enemies, or more importantly Marmee Noir to eventually destroy them, killing them all.  Since Vampires ultimately were at the top of the pecking order of preternatural species, it stood to reason it was Morgana, Dennee, followed by Nicci who would be Kahlan and Cara’s generals.

This time it was Nicci who spoke. “Some of my Tribe might be tempted to test these new realities. We are now Clan.” This time it was Nicci who allowed her Power and magic to come forward, almost lashing not just her Tribe members, but many of Kahlan’s group, particularly the few Weres, causing them to shudder or whimper in submissiveness. “I would urge you to not try. I’m feeling rather blood-thirsty and I can promise you that that is not something you do not want turned against you.”

Denna shook off her agitation, realizing that she would have to make herself indispensable another way, while Rikka, Raina, and Berdine looked on with some pride. A new Power was making itself known within the preternatural world, Power that had repercussions well beyond St. Louis, and their Mistresses were leading it.  


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Naughtiness ahead - I WOULD NOT READ AT WORK!
> 
> A/N: brief... ok, not so brief reference to grl-peen play

The following evening, Kahlan had awakened alone in the bed, the lingering warmth next to her and the silence in the room, indicated that Cara had recently left. She growled, deciding she didn’t like waking without her Mate nearby. Of course, she’ll never admit to the sudden neediness, and chalked the feeling up to having formed a very recent Mating Bond. She calmed herself a little, pulsing out her senses, reaching out within their Bond to see if Cara was in the area. Before those mystical tendrils began searching, the door opened, followed by Cara entering, holding a tray with several plates of food, a glass of milk, along with a carafe, and a large cup on it.

Grinning in pleasure at the sight of Kahlan, Cara approached the bed. “Good evening love. I brought you some food. Namely me.”

Smiling in return, her fangs peeking out from still swollen lips, Kahlan propped herself comfortably against the headboard, while trying to stem her own happiness at seeing her Mate. “Well this is a pleasant surprise. Thank you.”

“I can assure you this is as much a pleasure for me as it is for you.” Cara answered lecherously, laughing as Kahlan rolled her eyes. “Our ‘minions’ need to see you, well both of us, ASAP. I’ve taken the liberty of insisting that it might be an hour or so.”

Cara took heated pleasure in viewing her Mate, recently woken, lush and tousled as if they’d recently fucked. She planned to make that a reality before they left the room.

Steadily watching her new Mate as she calmly sipped a warm carafe of blood, spiced with a hint of…(?) cinnamon. Frowning slightly, Kahlan responded. “I’m guessing it’s not incredibly urgent since Morgana hasn’t attempted turn you into a toad,” she smirked as Cara paled at the threat “or reached out through our link. So that’s fine.” She took another sip of the special ‘brew’ before inquiring about the intriguing flavor. “Did you add a spice or two to this?” Kahlan reached out with her other hand and tugged Cara closer.

Cara grinned as sprawled herself against her lover, inhaling her scent, calming her at the same time it lit banked fires. “After some discussion with Garren, along with donating some of my own blood, I thought a dash of cinnamon, a little nutmeg, would make for a fetching Post-Mating-morning-after-meal. And yes, it’s pressing, but not urgent enough to not make sure you’re fed…, in more ways than one.” She finished sultrily.

Snorting, after draining the last of her drink, Kahlan took the sight of Cara’s honey thighs encased in snug and very short-shorts, along with a tight half-shirt. With her head propped up on one hand, while the other popped a piece of bacon in her mouth, her thick blonde hair hung in loose waves along her shoulder and the bed. Knowing that the day promised to be very busy, if not stressful considering the events of last evening, Kahlan decided to deal with all her appetites before leaving this room. And one appetite was reaffirming their Bond. She could feel the simmering lust being stoked higher now that she’d awakened, a scantily clad Cara made that fire burn hotter and brighter.

Even her magic began to pulse in her veins like the powerful donated blood feeding her. Suddenly that magic and Cara’s blood flared up, needing an outlet. It was if that Bond knew Cara was nearby and demanded that Kahlan nourish it.

Feeling her eyes tingle, Kahlan knew that it was time. “Cara.” She huskily growled.

But Cara had already been tuned into the growing sexual tension, the increasing neediness of the Bond, as well as the Kahlan’s own responsiveness. Normally, she’d be trying to control or Top the situation, but this was her Mate, seemingly destined just for her, normal left the building a long time ago. When Kahlan uttered her name, her eyes locked with the Vampire’s darkened swirl of purple-blues. Without taking her eyes off of Kahlan’s she slowly placed the tray of food on a nearby night-stand, not even certain  or caring if it was placed properly. Its crash to the ground was drowned out by Kahlan dragging her body against hers, dipping her dark head to plunder her lips. Twisting her body until they laid almost sideways, with Kahlan slightly leaning over her, her thigh thrown over Cara’s, as her Vampire plunged her tongue inside Cara’s mouth, twining with her own wet muscle.

Nipping her bottom lip enough to bleed, causing her Kahlan to groan in pleasure at the fresh taste of her Mate, she suckled the injured flesh. Dragging her lips down Cara’s throat, her fangs leaving light trails of pierced skin, allowed her to lap and swirl her tongue against the flesh and blood, the Were moaned, her fingers digging themselves into Kahlan’s back. Cara reveled in the sensation of their breasts pressed tightly together, although cursing the fact that she had any clothes on.

After sipping and licking up the last trickle of blood from along her blonde mate’s throat, Kahlan lifted her dark head to mutter a few words, the magic swirled the air until Cara’s clothes seemed to melt from her body. Groaning at the sensation of Kahlan’s nipples scraping against hers, Cara found herself using her teeth to find purchase along her Vampire’s meaty shoulder, enjoying the sensation and taste of Kahlan’s skin against her tongue.

She felt a Need. A Need to Mark that swell of pale flesh capped by a pink, rigid nipple. Lapping her way towards a pink nub, after swirling her tongue around Kahlan’s nipple, tugging, sucking it deeper into her mouth, loving the way Kahlan arched her body in response, pushing her breast even deeper. Slowly Cara pulled back until just the tip of the aching tip pierced tight and taut between gleaming white teeth. Meanwhile while Kahlan shifted until she wrapped her legs around Cara’s torso, one arm tangled tightly in her mate’s blonde locks, while the lightly scratched and fondled and gripped along Cara’s back.

Cara was well and truly locked in the loving, fierce embrace of her Mate, and she was loving every minute of the possessive hold. Dragging her own set of impressive fangs, which she’d just briefly Shifted along the slope of Kahlan’s breast, lapping up the blood and magic along the way until she reached the other breast.

Hissing, Kahlan undulated her body against her lover’s. “Sooo good. Harder. Ahhh yes! Like that!”

Meanwhile Cara smoothed one hand down until she reached Kahlan’s wet curls, her fingers gently furrowing through them, stinging Kahlan deliciously as they broke through the more tangled curls. Even though Cara loved the tangy, potent taste of her lover, she had something else in mind. Lapping and suckling up along Kahlan’s neck, mouthing and sucking on her pulse-point, Cara lifted her body slightly to allow her hand to inch closer to the quivering muscle perched below her vampire’s curls. Shifting her body until she had the leverage to fuck her Mate, she teasingly danced and stroked her fingers along the sensitive flesh cradling her grasping, wet hole, while one finger lightly stroked the quaking nub, smearing juices along its flesh.

Bending her blonde head down until her lips grazed Kahlan’s earlobe, her hand still cupping and fondling dark-haired lover’s cunt, she whispered heatedly. “Mine! I love knowing that only I will ever be allowed to take you like this!” When Cara started to circle and then slowly, oh so slowly push inside only to come to a shallow stop, Kahlan whimpered and growled. “That’s it. Tell me what you want. I can’t know unless you tell me.”

With her nails digging into Cara’s scalp and back, her head dropping back, as her body rolled and heaved. “Cara! Deeper!” She pleaded.

Slightly corkscrewing her fingers a little deeper, only to once again teasingly stop, her fingers widening, pressing, massaging Kahlan’s swelling walls. Cara brought her other hand down to hold onto her waist, allowing her more leverage for when she really began fucking her dark-haired lover. “Keep talking lover. You need to tell me exactly what you want. Or I swear I’ll stop.”

Silent, heaving breaths from Cara, mewling sounds of displeasure from Kahlan, only for her breath to catch as Cara gave short shallow, circling thrusts. “Oh goddess! Cara please!”

When Cara simply growly uttered, “Tell me! I don’t think you’ll last much longer.”

At that Kahlan jerked her head, glaring passionately at her lover, their eyes locked, as the hand in Cara’s hair gripped tighter, holding her blonde-haired lover in place. Through clenched teeth and fangs, her voice tight and deep, filled with Power and heat. “I want your fingers inside me, deep. I want you to make me cum Cara, until your fingers are coated with me. Until I’ve cum so much that even after washing them later, you’ll still smell me on you. And then after that I want you to use your mouth to lick up every drop, and then I want you to make me cum again. Do you think you can do that?!”

Magic swelled in the air, while her other hand shifted to grip Kahlan’s upper thigh high and tight to her waist, Cara could only growl and pant as she plunged three fingers inside her dark-haired lover. And then she slowly pulled out only to plunge again, twisting her wrist to ensure that her fingers stroked all the sensitive nerve-endings inside Kahlan’s tight, wet cunt. Shifting even more to allow her to grip Kahlan’s body even tighter to her own, she sat up; her core, back, and clearly delineated stomach muscles effortlessly flowing to until Kahlan was sitting in Cara’s lap.

Moaning deeply as Cara’s fingers probed even deeper, Kahlan began to roll and churn her bottom, before lifting up slightly and then sitting down on Cara’s fingers. “That’s lover. Take them, they’re yours.”

Before long they settled into a rhythm where Kahlan lifted up and sat down right as Cara plunged deep. Their moans, hisses, growls, and cries of pleasure filled the room, a light coating of sweat layered their bodies as their activities and strength shook and strained the bed frame. When Cara added another finger, all four almost stuffing her full, particularly when those finger flicked and massaged that spot deep inside her, and when Cara’s thumb reached up to stroke the sensitive underside of her clit, Kahlan could feel her orgasm approaching. She’d been holding off for far longer than she’d planned, but Cara’s fingers, the feel of her lips suckling and biting along her neck and shoulders, or the lewd sounds of their lovemaking, plus the way her magic swelled inside in response to her Mate was almost beyond her comprehension.

When Cara slightly leaned back, Kahlan’s eyes flashed open. “Hold on tight love.”

In response, Kahlan wrapped both arms around her blonde-lover’s shoulders. At that moment, Cara’s fingers plunged even deeper, scraping against ultra-sensitive spot, while her other hand let go of Kahlan’s waist to reach between them. Gently, yet firmly she clasped the throbbing, pulsating nub, and then gave it a twist unleash a ferocious response from her vampire. The orgasm slammed into Kahlan like a wave during a tsunami. With a howl, her body arched back, muscles standing out in stark relief, sparks of magic leaped from her skin pelting Cara like delicious stings from a cat-o-nines, causing mini-orgasms that seemed to get stronger. Cara followed Kahlan’s undulating body onto her back  even as her one set of finger tugged, squeezed, and twisted her vampire’s clit, while the other hand plunged, corkscrewed through the gushing rippling cunt.

The smell of Kahlan’s spilling cum made her gums ache and her tongue swell and water with the need to taste. But she soldiered on, allowing the orgasm to ripple on through her mate’s body, echoing into her own, and back. When Kahlan lifted her head to allow her fangs to sink into her Mark, it increased the potency of the orgasm and the strength of the magic, which backwashed into Cara, until both women lost consciousness.

 

***

 

What must have felt like hours later, but was only about twenty minutes later, Cara woke up with a sensual moaning-growl. The swelling-stuffed feeling coming from between her legs, along with a calloused fingertip circling her clit had ultimately awakened her. Her upper-body was splayed face-down on the bed. Her arms clenched around a pillow, but her knees were bent spreading her wide, pressed into the bed while her bottom was raised in the air. Instead of feeling air or a blanket, crisp wet curls were pressed against her folds from behind, strong fingers with nails from one hand dug into her side, as strong thighs held hers lewdly open. All of this to allow her lover to fuck her with a blunt-ended, warm object that was plunging its way inside deep into her cunt, circling her walls, thumping her cervix, before almost pulling out only to repeat the entire sequence. All the while that finger continued to circle and occasionally squeeze her pulsating nub.

With a gasp, Cara lifted her head when that blunt object nudged against a spot inside her causing her toes to curl, and her stomach to tighten even further. Turning her head, she hissed in pleasure at the added erotic sight that Kahlan presented. Dark hair was strewn around her lithely-muscled shoulders. Her gleaming sapphire orbs had slitted to a darkened, almost violet color that were busy staring down at the member lodging itself deep inside Cara.

Underneath the comforting scent of her Mate, and the delicious scent of their earlier lusty coupling, was that hint of magic. Magic that had been used to transform Kahlan’s clitoris, elongating it, widening it until it resembled a quivering penis – 8 inches of it. When Cara began to move, Kahlan whacked her hand down on her Were’s bottom.

“Now, now, my turn. Do not move or I will pull out, and we’ll begin the rest of our day.” And with that she almost pulled all the way out before plunging it back in, causing Cara let out a deep moan. “That’s it. I can feel you everywhere. I can feel what you feel, the way your tight cunt wraps so sweetly around me. One would think you’ve never been fucked.”

When Kahlan thought about Cara’s Tribe, the beautiful women she suddenly became envious before growing unreasonably angry that they’d known her blonde Were intimately. Pulling out roughly and then thrusting in deeply, Kahlan moved her hand to dig her nails into Cara’s shoulder, giving her added leverage as she leaned down over her back. Her hips continued to roll and thrust deep, increasing speed, sensation as her breasts pressed into Cara’s muscular back. Whispering heatedly into Cara’s ear, Kahlan reasserted her dominance. “I do not care who’ve you’ve had before. This, you are **mine** ; you belong to me from this day forward! Understand?!”

“Fuck! Yes! Know it--” Cara began keening as Kahlan started to pummel the rough patch of skin deep inside her.

For Kahlan it was almost too much for her too-sensitive flesh, still tender from their earlier activities, but the slight pain only added to the pleasure. When Cara’s honey walls began to squeeze down onto her flesh, she swore she saw spots dance before her glowing bluish-purple eyes, as her cunt began to compress blood and cum along her shaft. Snuggling her body even closer to Cara’s, Kahlan used her knees and thighs to give her the leverage to continue thrusting and circling her hips, her cock seemingly swelling even further as the orgasm rushed through her over-sensitive body. 

“Kahlan!” Cara yelled out her name as her own orgasm exploded from her core, pouring out through her cunt, her clit being milked by Kahlan, setting off its own quakes. But it was her answering magic, magic that knew her dark-haired lover was her Mate, magic that was dominated and adjusted by Kahlan’s magic.

Finally, the decadent loop both women found themselves in settled, calming until Kahlan flopped over onto Cara’s back as the blonde shifted tiredly onto her stomach. “Bloody hell, if that’s what we have to look forward to, how are we ever going to get out of bed?!”


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BEWARE: Extra naughtiness ahead!
> 
>  
> 
> A/N: Please, as always continue to give feedback, you have no idea how much it's appreciated.

Nicci cursed herself for not hearing Morgana’s approach, but she chalked it up to her exhaustion from her mistresses’ magic show, and for having to strengthen the wards around their compound. It didn’t help that the heavy luxurious heat from the hot tub had caused her to lightly doze, the water licking at her skin like gentle caresses. But any further thoughts were dismissed as she took in Morgana’s naked body standing at the edge of the huge tub. Pale and gleaming, flushed from both magic and blood and the surrounding heat, her dark hair piled attractively atop of her head with a few curls escaping,

Sultrily, grinning with a hint of fang, Morgana allowed her gaze to take in her delectable prey. Her intoxicating scent of anxiety, along with the musky undertones of her Beast, practically had her purring in anticipation. For a moment, a flash of annoyance of her bond with Athena, indicating her continual jealousy, caused Morgana to make a mental note to put the blonde Vampire in place at her soonest convenience. Athena was her first and only Childe, it also made her Morgana’s favorite – she trusted her implicitly. And after more than a millennia of adventures and lots of sex, Athena had become complacent, as well as possessive.

Of course as a Vampire, her instincts wouldn’t allow her to be any other way. But it didn’t mean she wouldn’t need reminding about her continued submission to her Mistress. It also didn’t mean that Morgana couldn’t splurge on the rare changes to their small coven. Knowing Athena, after her initial _issues_ , along with her more than certain anticipated display of attempted dominance over Nicci, Athena will eventually welcome her. Morgana was certain of it. She’d hate to lose her only Childe otherwise.

Shifting her thoughts to the golden blonde in front of her, Morgana elegantly stepped into the tub and sensually glided closer to Were. Even through the water, she could smell the Tiger awakening underneath Nicci’s skin, and it only added to her appeal. There was something… intimate about sharing magic with someone, she could still feel tiny trickles of Nicci’s powerful magic thrumming along with her own, and it made her nipples hard, her cunt wet, while her Thirst peaked. When she saw Nicci flaring her nose, she became even more stimulated knowing she was scenting Morgana’s arousal.

“I can smell why you’re here Vampire. Well you can turn around and have one of your minions take care of it.” Nicci attempted to dismiss her own answering arousal, while dangerously trying to deny the powerful Vampire-Sorceress from approaching further.

Morgana simply smirked, a well-manicured eyebrow arched high in amusement. The fact was she liked it when her _prey_ tried to deny themselves what they wanted, particularly when what they wanted was her. “Really? Well then you’ve been misinformed: I’ve dismissed all my minions. I only want you.”

At Morgana’s words, Nicci almost felt a punch of heat in her lower abdomen, and could almost swear she felt a trickle of moistness leaking out from her swelling pussy. Almost gulping, Nicci suddenly realized that not only was Morgana closer than was only a short moment ago, but that her own bluish-hazel eyes seemed pinned by Morgana’s piercing and glowing cerulean gaze. Her Beast felt… cowed by the Vampire and she instantly hated it. Aside from Kahlan, Nicci bowed to no Vampire… or least she liked to believe that.

Whatever thoughts she had were immediately interrupted by a single long digit that began to lightly trail from her pulsating artery at her neck. It continued down her neck and over to the small indentation atop her breastbone, down to her heaving breasts, until Nicci realized she had standing with no apparent resistance in front of her Morgana. That finger paused, as if undecided to continue the same direction or make a detour to either of the two perfect gleaming mounds with turgid pink nipples that were begging to be sucked. It didn’t stop Morgana from hungrily watching as Nicci’s nipples tightened further, as if in response.

A Vampire’s skin is naturally cool, but Morgana’s single finger felt as if it was leaving a small trail of fire in its wake. When Morgana pressed her cool body against hers, Nicci felt trapped, caught, and her body seemed unwilling to remove itself from Morgana’s web. The water provided a luscious buoyancy and slickness to their pressed skin, causing her magic to respond. In fact, earlier she figured out that her magic was responsive to Morgana’s own brand of magic; it was why their wards around the compound were now so potent. Even though her magic felt vastly different from Morgana. The Vampire’s was dark, earthy, briny, and old, like being in a room full of ancient scrolls.  

Whereas Nicci’s felt feral, spicier, and nimble. Even though Morgana’s magic was more potent, especially the longer the spellcasting took to build. But Nicci’s was no less dangerous. The nimbleness of Nicci’s magic allowed it to dance around the heavier and earthier magic, creating a powerful confluence of spellwork, and by extension a lattice of wards around the property that ended in an explosion of light. They were exceedingly deadly to both the physical world, as well as the mystical plane, preventing unwanted visitors or dangerous spiritual manifestations from surprise visits.

Morgana should’ve been drained after the spellcrafting. But after a blood donation from that delectable Were-Hyena, Garren, it only boosted her already heated desire to see her soon-to-be-established-Pet, Nicci. Suddenly the thought of Nicci as her Pet, perhaps even becoming her Servant was intriguing. More so because Morgana knew Nicci would fight it and her own attraction, plus the growing connection between them. To most preternaturals, the chase was just as intoxicating as the capture, and she as Master Vampire was no different.

Tightening her arm around the Were, she enjoyed the shudder that wracked the blonde’s body, even more she reveled in the almost too-hot skin against her cooler one. Leaning her head down, she nuzzled into the gentle curve of Nicci’s neck, smiling when the blonde’s leaned her head back to allow her more access along the long golden column. Taking in a needless breath allowed Morgana to inhale more of Nicci’s delicious scent, as well as the strong smell of her arousal. Meanwhile that wandering finger moved her hand to explore the wet warm skin down the side of Nicci’s muscular flank, her nails lightly trailed in its wake, causing goosebumps to erupt along the blonde’s skin, until she palmed the Were’s luscious bottom.

Whimpering, Nicci seemed to have lost any resolve to protest, her traitorous body giving in the moment Morgana touched her, even as her mind claimed otherwise. As the Vampire trailed her lips down to her pulse-point, Nicci had a moment of clarity, and attempted to separate her body from Morgana’s. But the Vampire held strong and Nicci was honest enough to know she’d only made a half-hearted attempt.

Lifting her head, the Vampire gave her another hungry look with a slight smirk. “Ah, ah, ah. Once the prey has been caught, it cannot escape. Surely even you know that?”

Of course, Morgana didn’t expect an answer, especially once she crushed her lips against Nicci’s tempting pink ones. Moaning, especially when one of her fangs sliced into Nicci’s lower lip, releasing a trickle of blood for her to lap up, Morgana’s tongue pressed for entry until it was granted. And was immediately met with the Were’s wet muscle. The mild game of dominance ensued, their tongues twirled and stroked against each other. Nicci’s small amount of blood only ratcheted both women’s arousal. Morgana loved Nicci’s distinct taste – the blood had notes of cardamom, pepper, gaminess, and magic. Lovely. However nothing was compared when Morgana, growing impatient, slid the hand that had been fondling the blonde’s bottom, around to slide through wet curls, paused to lightly pinch an erect clit, before continuing on to the pooling juices, pausing to unceremoniously shove three fingers into Nicci’s sleek wet cunt.

Immediately a cry exploded from Nicci into Morgana’s mouth, her nails digging helplessly into the Vampire’s shoulders. Morgana suddenly moved their bodies until she could effortlessly prop the blonde up on the edge of the giant tub with her hips in between Nicci’s legs, allowing her complete access. Without thought, Nicci continued to hold onto the Vampire, one hand even slid its way, tightening into Morgana’s dark waves of hair for more purchase. Morgana, loving the slight sharpness of Nicci’s hold, continued to devour her mouth, as her fingers started to piston in and out of the blonde’s grasping hole.

At some point, realizing that Nicci needed to breathe, and to better fully enjoy the responsive sounds emerging from her Pet’s mouth, Morgana reluctantly broke from her lips, and began nibbling her way back down Nicci’s swanlike neck until she came to that entrancing pulse point. Suddenly Morgana’s desire to see her Pet come undone with her fingers and mouth, became just as prevalent as Marking her Pet and tasting more of her blood. Leaning back briefly to take in the gorgeous vision of her flushed Tiger, blonde hair plastered to her head, hanging in thick wet strands along her shoulders, defiant light hazel eyes were replaced by hooded orbs, begging Morgana to make her cum.

When Nicci began to whimper, her hip undulating onto Morgana’s fingers, the Vampire briefly concentrated, uttered a quick spell, her eyes glowing even more, the rush of more magic spiked along their skin. Suddenly Nicci cried out as her invisible hands began fondling her breasts, delicious tension surrounded her nipples, squeezing the stiff nubs, even as her mind was momentarily unable to process how if Morgana’s one hand held in her place, well the other was busy fucking her.

Now that Morgana felt that her Pet was being properly attended to, she gave into the urge to suck, hard onto Nicci’s pulse-point, bringing forth her delicious blood near her skin. And when her fangs began to ache, her Thirst became almost painful, and most importantly, when Nicci’s honey walls began to flutter around her fingers, her fangs slid into her Nicci like butter.

Unlike Kahlan and Cara, their magic didn’t explode from inside, it had already found its way inside both women in smaller increments. Now it simply poured into, through and around them. Had anyone passed near the shut door, they would have noticed the light that seemed to bend around the seams of the door. Another Bond began to form, cementing itself, almost complete. the necessary words, as well as acknowledged intent of the Bond, must ensue in order to bind them for eternity. The sharpness from the magic before both women began to lose consciousness, clued them in. Luckily, Kahlan and Cara had awakened, noticing a magical shift, and found them before either women drowned, or in the case of Morgana, became waterlogged. 

 

***

 

Even though Denna had designs on being one of Cara’s lieutenants, Berdine was likely to get the role. After all, Denna had way too much history, even if that history had become more and more muddled and forgotten each day. But there was something a tad too… calculating about Denna, even now with her vows of loyalty and submission. Cara, Raina, and Rikka while trusted Denna more than anyone outside of their group, still felt a slight wariness around her.

But Berdine didn’t consider it an issue; after all, no family is perfect. Berdine was a perfect candidate because she was quite brilliant, making it easy to ingest knowledge. Already, the only person who might equal her in the amount of books, scrolls, or even magazines, would be Nicci, but hers was more focused on one area, magic. Whereas Berdine had books on a variety of subjects. In their old world, she was considered a walking library, in this new one she was no different.

At the moment, she was putting her skills to good use by researching information on bonding rituals and magic. She also wanted to know why Kahlan and her Vampires could function during the day. Granted they were decidedly more lethargic and from what she’d gleaned from Dennee, their powers were also somewhat muted, plus they still had to avoid direct sunlight on their skin beyond a few moments. But she knew she’d have to wait for Kahlan to make an appearance before she could gather more information for research purposes. She also made a mental note to thank Dean, their geeky Were-Fox for teaching her about technology, particularly computers. It made her job that much easier.

However before she began typing further, Raina entered carrying a clear box with some kind decorative mask inside. Looking at Raina questioningly, her dark-haired lover only shrugged. “I have no idea. It was perched on a stool in front of the door.”

Standing up from her chair, she carefully grabbed the box from Raina and placed it on a nearby table. Leaning over it to delicately sniff it, hoping to pick up any unusual scents, she asked, “Did anyone see who placed it there?”

Shaking her head, Raina looked both outraged at the unknown incursion onto to their territory, while looking worried at the lack of evidence of anyone or thing having been anywhere near. “No. I even had Dean check the cameras and he picked up nothing. One moment it nothing, the next it appeared of out nowhere,” she stated.

Finally taking her attention away from the mask, Berdine redirected her attention to her lover, hearing her anxiety. “What about the magic-users, did they pick up anything?”

Walking to the red-head’s side, she wrapped an arm around her waist, sighing. “Maxine and Honey were unable to pick up anything. Morgana, Nicci, Kahlan, and Cara are momentarily indisposed,” Raina grouched amusingly.

Smirking, Berdine rolled her eyes. “Have either Max or Honey send them a message that something urgent has come up and we need their assistance, and get Dennee if she’s around.” She returned her attention to the box, peering intently at it. “I have a strong suspicion that things are about to get intense.” Seeing her lover’s raised eyebrow in response to her obvious statement, “Yeah, nothing foreboding about that, at all.”  


	33. Chapter 33

They are the whisper in the night, the shadow stalking you over your shoulder. They cause the hairs to raise on the back of your neck when you instinctively sense, with no visible proof that something bad is upon you. They are the Harlequin - the Vampire boogeymen. No one has ever seen their true form and each Harlequin was named after characters from the famous Italian comedy ** _Commedia dell’arte_**. But their presence offered no amusement. They are full of mystery and subterfuge, they bring with them the absolute certainty that your world won’t ever be the same. Legendary, ancient and powerful, elite Vampire assassins, created by none other than the Mother of Darkness, to ‘police’ all of Vampire-dom. Their physical presence is disconcerting, simply because the scent of instant terror and panic from even the most powerful, elder Vampires at their presence or threat of an appearance, fills the air like perfume. To even speak of them will bring their attention, if not certain death.

If they appear as their assassin-moniker, the situation could go only a few ways: to watch, to talk, to punish, or to kill. All-White masks meant they are simply observing, A White mask with Gold musical notes indicates a willingness to meet peacefully and talk. Red indicates a near future filled with pain of punishment. Every Vampire understands that this last method means full compliance or simply death – and you will never see it coming. You’ll simply receive a mask. Predictably, a Black mask ensures your certain death.

Jean-Claude stood staring down at the Mask delivered sometime during the day, with likely no witnesses, not even an image on his extensive security camera network. He stood with that unnatural stillness that members of his kind can demonstrate either in preparation of the hunt, or to hide a deep uncertainty, or discontent. Asher came to stand near, his hair falling like a lustrous golden waterfall over one side of his face, meant to hide the deeply scarred map of burns from many eons ago. Despite both Jean-Claude and Anita having insisted that he was beautiful without having to hide this imperfection, Asher embodied the very idea that some wounds remained much deeper than the surface.

At the moment both Master Vampires felt a mutual echo of discontent, and perhaps, no little fear. Unfortunately Jean-Claude suspected that this was the result of their very powerful guests who remained well ensconced in his city. They had already warned him that there might be some serious repercussions from either the Council itself, or Marmee Noir, likely both. Resisting the unnecessary human habit of releasing a deep and long-suffering sigh, Jean-Claude directed his attention to his 2nd.

“Send an envoy over to Mistress Kahlan’s and Mademoiselle Cara’s residence and instruct them to present themselves here as soon as possible. If they resist, please inform them that the matter we previously discussed has occurred.” Nodding, Asher left to carry out his instructions.

Since their arrival and the subsequent series of events, including unleashing a powerful bonding spell between the ancient Mistress Kahlan and Cara, Jean-Claude has had the decidedly unpleasant sensation of trying to play catch-up to consequences that he’s certain would be significant. While they’ve told him in no uncertain terms upon the pain of death, what that magic entailed, they did pledge an alliance with him, strengthening his standing significantly. But more worrisome was the warning that there may be some repercussions from the Mother of All Darkness. The Masks they received tonight were white with golden notes, meaning anything could happen from the declared benign action of observation and some kind communication, or things could escalate to pain or death if they did not take heed or remained defiant. The door slamming open, followed by the clack-stomp of Anita’s high-heels, indicated that either she’d been alerted to the impending trouble, or something else caused her anger.

Surprisingly she was wearing a dress, but looked slightly disheveled. He could also see the hint of a gun on the inside of her thigh. Chances are he might be able to spot the strap-handle of a knife along her back. Anita never went anywhere without arming herself. She carried a duffle-bag likely filled with jeans, a t-shirt, and sneakers – her real work uniform. But he had no time to ponder about pointless thoughts as Anita’s raised voice interrupted his moment of quietude. “I was just attacked by Mother!”

She suddenly shoved her right hand in front of his face. Her silver necklace hung from her clenched fist and as she opened it, in the center of her palm was her ever-present (and lucky) cross. But it had burned into her palm, leaving behind a blistered red cross-shaped and soon-to-be permanent mark similar to the one on her arm from a long-ago incident. “She snuck in past my mental shields while I was at dinner with Nathaniel.” She breathed heavily for a few moments, trying to work through the stinging, now deep throb of her hand. “And she was angry. I could… _taste_ it.”

He gently cupped her hand in his, the coolness of his skin almost a balm against her own too-hot hand. Before he could respond, the door opened again, and in walked Jason and Nathaniel, followed by Asher and Damien. Damien nodded his head in greeting, even as his brilliant green eyes sought out Anita; worry and concern filling their unusual orbs. Nathaniel, who looked as if he’d been worked over by one of the kinky clientele that often graced his club, walked over to Anita with a medical kit in his hand. He began to tend to her wound before she could get recalcitrant.

Asher motioned towards the door. “Our requested guests will be here momentarily. They are going through our security protocols.”

“See that only Vampires and Mistress Cara are permitted into the room until I indicate otherwise.”

Anita zeroed in on the discussion and mentally sent _What is going on?! Does this have something to do with the attack on me?!_

 _Non, mon petite, this is not about you. This is Vampire business. Only!_ He insisted.

_What the hell does that mean?! Absolutely not are you meeting with those bitches by yourself! Yo-_

_This is not up for debate, Anita!_ When he used her name instead of one his endearments, it meant he was using his Master of the City voice, and that he was becoming truly annoyed with her. _Please. Let Jason and Nathaniel take you to my chambers and take care of your wound. I will… come to you as soon as I can and we will talk then. I promise ma petite._

A knock on the door, followed by Requiem announcing their guests, signified the end of their mental discussion. Bowing, he intoned, “Master. I present Mistress Kahlan, Mistress Cara, Morgana, and Athena.”

Anita barely prevented herself from rolling her eyes at Requiem’s ridiculous moment of old-world manners. But inside she seethed, particularly as Cara smirked at her when her jade-green eyes landed on her. She was certain that they had something to do with the Mother of Darkness trying to possess her. Regardless of whatever Jean-Claude said, she planned to get to the bottom of it, even if it meant going Vampire Executioner on them. And she had no qualms going that route. Sneering her nose at Cara, she squeezed Jean-Claude’s forearm gently with her good hand, and stalked out the door with Nathaniel and Jason on her heels.

Kahlan brushed the hood of her white robe off of her head, releasing a thick waterfall of dark hair. Cara stood by her side, her palm possessively sitting low on the Master Vampire’s back, gently guiding her until she stood before Jean-Claude. With Athena and Morgana flanking their sides, Kahlan nodded with a slight bow of her head in greeting, while Cara gave a brief dip of her head. Jean-Claude illustrated a bit of old-world-charm by gently clasping Kahlan’s outstretched hand, and chastely kissing her wrist.

“We meet again Mistress Kahlan. And welcome, to your Bond-Mate Cara.”

“It did not appear as though we had a choice. But given the latest… developments it was wise of you to call this swift meeting.”

“Indeed. Please have a seat.” He directed his attention to Cara. “Can I you interest you in something to eat or drink?”

 “I assure you, I was fully sated earlier. Thank you J-C,” Cara drawled, even as she ignored the amused warning in her mate’s glance.

“J-C? Surely your Mate has instructed you on how to greet your Master of the City? Again, your attempts to insult his authority--” Asher stood tall and indignant to the amusement of their guests. Although, Kahlan’s amusement was significantly more restrained. Morgana mentally rolled her eyes at all the posturing from yet, another one of Belle’s Childer.

Jean-Claude laid a calming hand on Asher’s shoulder. “J-C is it? I have been called worse, and rather than allowing us to focus on Cara’s poor attempts to antagonize my 2nd, we should focus on the impending crisis all of us may soon be facing. A crisis that is a direct result of your actions, I might add.”

With a firm squeeze on Cara’s forearm, the blonde sighed, rolling her eyes at the mild reprimand from her mate. “Sorry.”

Nodding, Jean-Claude redirected his attention to Mistress Kahlan, once again marveling at their similar coloring, and her beauty. “Anita was recently attacked by Marmee Noir. Our… bond is significantly more vulnerable since we have come to her attentions.”

Morgana narrowed her eyes at Jean-Claude. “Why?”

An indignant and protective Asher answered. “That is none of your business.”

Morgana’s eyes hardened. Hot-headed vampires; clearly he had no idea who he was dealing with. “Watch your tone Vampire. It behooves you to work with allies than make more enemies. And I am not an enemy you want to have.”

Kahlan stood. “Enough! We are here to assess the threat and make preparations accordingly.” She refocused her brilliant sapphire-colored orbs on Jean-Claude. “I assume you received a message as well?”

Jean-Claude looked towards Damian and nodded. Everyone waited as he walked over towards a small lacquer onyx chest, opened, and reached for the mask. At that moment, Kahlan looked towards her Mate, who reached into a glass box handed to her by Athena. Cara extracted the mask, only this one was Red. It had been waiting for them when they finally ventured out of their bedroom, after being summoned by Honey. Apparently theirs had been delivered at some time during their rest, in a glass box.

With a muscle jumping in his cheek, Jean-Claude could only imagine what it meant with two seemingly different messages, and what those messages meant once the Harlequin figured out that their two clans had an alliance. Meanwhile Morgana was wracking her brain and her magical knowledge for ideas on why Marmee Noir would be interested in the human. 


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings! I hope everyone has had a passable Summer. Sorry for the lack of updates, I can only point to a reluctant muse, life that often got in the way. Thank you for all the Kudos and the feedback, it is much appreciated, and a HUGE motivation for continuing this journey.
> 
>  
> 
> A/N: There's been lots of editing of the entire story, some chapters shifted &/or expanded. Nothing too noticeable, but you might want to take another look-see at the previous chapters.

Until she remembered a certain important detail: the female was a Necromancer. “Ahhh. I see. Your Human Servant is a Necromancer. A surefire way ability sure to infuriate Mother. I can only surmise that your Necromancer must be powerful enough to attract the unpleasant attentions of the Mother of Darkness.”

Keeping a mask of calm, Jean-Claude responded to Morgana’s slight goading. “Yet we were not the ones to receive a Red mask. Care to share why?”

At that, Kahlan tilted her head as if carefully examining him, her bluish-purple eyes slightly glowing in Power. “You understand that anything we may share with you will not be shared with anyone else without my consent. To do so will incur my wrath. And I can assure you, that that is not something I’m anxious to impart, but will have no qualms doing.”

Even as Jean-Claude nodded, Asher scoffed – after all they **had** killed the Vampire Earthmover, Oliver, an Old One of the 1 st Brood like Kahlan. Before Cara or Morgana could bristle in increasing agitation, Kahlan laid palm over her Mate’s thigh, calming her. Kahlan simply smiled, baring her teeth. “I have always believed that intimidation lies in the unspoken, it must be implied both in body language, and eventually action, following an appropriate warning of course.”

She casually stood, placing another soothing hand on her Mate’s shoulder, with Cara watching intently, while both Morgana and Athena looked on stoically. After all they knew what was coming and Morgana silently magically shielded Cara. Suddenly the room began to darken as if it was track-lighting being turned down. However, along with the growing darkness was a sense that the oxygen was being decreased, causing the pressure to increase. Now darkness began to leach across the floor, creeping up the walls like live vines, snuffing out any hint of light. The smell of thunderstorms and rain scented the room, saturating it until they almost expected lightning or rain.

Kahlan, her eyes glowing even more hotly, was a stark contrast amongst all the growing darkness. However it was Jean-Claude and Asher who proved to be the most affected. Blood began to leak from their ears, until Jean-Claude held up his hand. “Enough! You have made your point!”

And suddenly, like lights that had quickly been turned on, everything went back to normal, leaving the affected Vampires gasping, and glaring. Jean-Claude had to curb the need to physically strike Kahlan. But he knew with some intrinsic certainty that the other Master Vampire anticipated such a move, and would react accordingly, making things significantly worse for them. “One could suggest that that was considered an attack on the Master of the City and I would have cause to seek a reprisal.”   

But Kahlan calmly returned to her seat, curling an arm around her Mate’s, making herself rather comfortable before responding. “Indeed. And you would have cause. But I needed to ensure that you understood that I am not hot-headed Oliver, or the grossly ambitious Belle Morte, or even a cruel Master like Morven. I am of the 1st Brood, once a favorite of Mother. I am calculating, intelligent, and very, very dangerous.”

“Yet I also think that you are a more than adequate Master of the City, and more importantly an honorable and fair ally. That is not an easy concept within the higher ranks of elite vampires. I would be a fool, like so many of our colleagues, to throw that away in an attempt at power. I am also a scholar; knowledge and truth are more important to my efforts.”

What Kahlan did not say, was that her scholarly efforts were ultimately about power and how to sustain or cultivate more of it. She planned to rule, but not just St. Louis. All of Vampire-dom. Mother once ran an empire spanning the globe. For too long, powerful Vampires like Belle Morte or Morte d’ Amour have been allowed to run rampart, creating terror and chaos, making it easy for the humans to target them. Kahlan knew it wouldn’t be long before their… _generosity_ and fear would run out, and they would once again, be forced to either go into hiding, or fight for their very existence. And this new reality would not be exclusive to Vampires, but to all Preternaturals.

Kahlan knew this with some certainty and she planned to ensure that that never happened. This time it was her blonde Mate who spoke. “Now that we’ve come to some understanding, it’s time to decide on how to rid ourselves of these assassins. These masks, I’m assuming not everyone receives similar colors?”

This time an already angry Asher, became even more incensed over Cara’s interference in closely-held vampire-business. “You have no right to decide our plans regarding the Harlequin. This is vampire business!”

Cara rolled her eyes. “Look, whoever pissed in your cornflakes, take it up with them. This involves both our Clans, and as her rightful Bonded Mate, that makes it my business. So get over yourself for a few minutes and just answer the question.”

Jean-Claude who was busily wiping up the blood leaking from his eardrums, wearily rubbed a hand along his brow. “You would be correct. And know that just by involving you in Harlequin matters will likely sign your death warrant?” he warily looked at Kahlan to assess how she processed the statement. However she looked surprisingly unconcerned.

“Of course. Just as I assume you knew when you requested both our presence for this meeting about the Harlequin?”

If Jean-Claude could blush, he might have right then at his incredible oversight. Luckily he had years of practice of stoicism to hide his embarrassment. “I apologize. My intention was not to further endanger your Mate. I simply assumed she was already involved.”

Waving a dismissive hand in his direction, Kahlan nodded. “Do not attempt to make assumptions about me or my Mate in the future.” But then the Council Vampire leveled a steady, piercing gaze on Jean-Claude, her eyes cerulean eyes glowing with power. “After all, I would hate to return that favor to your human.” Allowing a moment to ensure her message was understood, Kahlan decided to return to the problem at hand. “They will be making a move soon. Naturally we will help deal with them. I am familiar with some of their… tricks – after all, I invented a few of them.”

What she didn’t say is that those tricks were imbued by powerful magic and spellcrafting. Little did they know was that she’d since gotten an upgrade in both. She also knew who filled the ranks of the Harlequin, but chances are Marmee may have forgotten these important factors, or more likely she’s added new bodies to fulfill this mission. She’d have to think on who from the Council might interfere, along with who would have the most to gain. The Dragon was somewhat content in her place within the Council, while Belle Morte was exceedingly ambitious, but had fallen out of favor with both Kahlan and Mother for her attempted coup of the Council. Mort d’ Amour hated Kahlan and was ambitious, plus he was vicious enough to peak Mother’s interest if she was looking to teach her Childe a ‘lesson.’

“I suggest you keep tight tabs on the people you care about, bring in a witch you trust, or two to help set up detectors. Perhaps I’ll send over some talisman for your Pets. In the meantime, I will ferret out those involved from the Council, because you can be certain someone is.”

Jean-Claude was feeling some measure of comfort that Kahlan was both pragmatic and not gleefully sadistic, as had been his experience thus far with Council members. And there was something decidedly helpful in having a Master Vampire of Kahlan stature and power willing to help protect both his city, and his coven. However as soon as that thought crossed his mind, a flash of speed erupted in front of him, and Asher was found shoved against the nearest wall hard enough for cracks to appear on its surface, his neck clasped in Kahlan’s hand, his body inches off the ground indicating Kahlan’s negligible strength. “And you would do well to remember to mind your tongue whilst speaking to my rightful Mate. Do not make me have to remind you again.”

Before Jean-Claude could step in Cara had Partially-Shifted into a Wolf, her hands now claws, her body grown in size to tower over his own, her teeth elongated and deadly, while her skin became darker and shadowed as if she was about to break out in dark fur. The blonde stepped close to Jean-Claude, menacing, threatening any attempts from him to interfere. Meanwhile Morgana, looking amused had simply held up a hand, made a motion, and Damien and Requiem found themselves pinned to the wall, held there by some invisible force.

“I think you will find Master Jean-Claude, that you rule because **I** allow you to do so. Whether we decide to settle here or somewhere else, no disrespect will be tolerated, both within our presence or within whispers found in the wind. Because we will know and then you will be shown little leniency.” This time it was Morgana’s clear, aristocratic English-accented voice who leveled the warning.

Jean-Claude cursed himself for almost forgetting the one other Vampire who was almost equal to Kahlan in power. With a muscle bunching in his cheek, Jean-Claude slowly held up his hand in a placating gesture. Smoothly giving a slight bow, he answered, “Forgive me Mistresses. It was not our intention to find ourselves in such disfavor, nor was our intention to insult you. It has been a long and difficult month, leading to strong tensions. I apologize.”

And just like that, Cara stood back and smoothly Shifted back into her human form. Stretching her neck and shoulders until she heard a satisfying crack from one her vertebrates, Cara held out her hand to her Mate who had just released Asher. Cara understood that this was… Vampire posturing, whereupon the natural order of this world, meant that for the most part, Vampires ruled the preternatural world. But she knew that in a fight, she would have the edge because not only had been trained as a warrior, she was also imbued with magic to go along with all her Were abilities.

Why she still had memories of her previous life, particularly when it had become apparent that the former Mord-Sith of her Tribe, plus Nicci, Dennee, and Kahlan had no recollection of said world, she didn’t know. Although those memories were becoming more and more… distant the longer she lived in this one. Curiously she was fine with that realization. She’d been an excommunicated Mord-Sith, struggling to save the world, while mystically connected to the Seeker, and unfortunately Darken Rahl, and trying to deny the fact that she’d fallen in love with Kahlan who’d had aspirations for Rahl – her Master.

And then that infernal wizard, Zorander did a powerful spell that knocked their world asunder, sending her elsewhere. A place where others had little to no memory of their former world. But it allowed her to start over, while granting her new and powerful magic, and most importantly, a chance to build a new life with Kahlan as her Mate. Somehow the goddess has smiled upon her; this time she planned to revel in her newfound bounty. 


	35. Chapter 35

Richard and Darken had been brothers before Mother Changed them. They had been known as fierce warriors in ancient Mesopotamia, from the ancient city of Babylon. They had been patrolling along the outskirts of their city, Darken had been pulled from his duties as a scribe a year before, but was often found to have chisel or a small clay tablet secreted away in one his pouches. But he was the older brother, therefore he’d had a sense of responsibility to their family to ensure his safety, which is why he joined Richard when he was called to duty.

Due to Darken’s impressive intellect and cunning, as well as Richard’s natural fighting prowess, the two brothers became a fearsome duo. As a result when relations between Babylon and the neighboring city-state Assyria became contentious, leading to many minor skirmishes, or battles, the brothers were called to lead their own regiment, feared by even their own men. However, even though Darken preferred to be the planner and director, he found that his blood sung in his veins during the course of actual battle. Richard was simply vicious fighter.

It was these reasons and more, such as Richard caught flirting with their commanding officer’s daughter that found them doing a patrol outside the city gates. On this night glittered dark and silent, with only their own counsel, and the moon and stars to guide them. It was the sudden smell of jasmine that began wafting the air; an unusual scent for this arid area. When that smell grew thick, almost cloying was when they realized that something was afoot. Hairs rose on their forearms and the back of the neck, hinting at danger. But it was so dark, the moonbeans seemingly weak, too weak to see out into the distance.

After unintentionally sending urgent whispers back in forth, both men suddenly stood back-to-back, with their gladius held ready for the impending danger. Cold sweat broke out on his forehead, until a noise alerted them to an approximate area to the left, only to hear that same sound to their right. After calling out threats to no avail, the wind picked up so viciously that it kicked grains of sand, stinging the faces, pelting their skin, causing their eyes to clench and water.

And then the wind suddenly died as if it had been sucked up by a giant. Fear is an awesome thing; especially for warriors who were used to squashing their fear in order to feed their rage going into battle. This fear was ferocious and thick, like bile creeping up one’s throat, it was incapacitating. At least until Richard was suddenly snatched from behind him into the darkness, screaming for a few seconds until he was silenced. After crying out for his brother, something huge and muscular knocked him off his feet onto his back.

As he was gasping for his breath, the sound of heavy paws hitting the ground crept closer to him. He wildly looked around for his weapon only to find himself pushed onto his back again by a creature from legend, from stories heard by merchants from far distances. A large white animal, a cat with gold and black stripes running along the length of its body, large tusks curled up from near its huge nose. But around its wide muzzle was stained red, its teeth imposing, sharp, and deadly. As it stood over him, Darken desperately tried to feel around on the ground for his weapon to no avail. It wasn’t until he was caught in its gaze, holding him in place like as if he was in a trance.

But these were no normal eyes, aside from the definite eyes of a predator, they held an intelligence that belied that of a mere animal. Hypnotically he was held, the dark eyes glittered like the stars filling the skies, until he realized that the body was no longer that of a large cat. A woman laid upon; naked, a mass of dark, curling hair. Even though she appeared tiny, there seemed to be a presence that was almost physical. This presence was intense and powerful and menacing.

She flowed smoothly, unnaturally to her feet, and then held out her hand, palm up to him. The moment he placed his hand in hers, was when his, and his brother’s life became inextricably intertwined with hers. Speaking in almost guttural, yet smooth tones, she gave them a choice. It was one he never regretted.

At the moment he was perched high up on a brick chimney – unused of course, watching the comings and goings of Jean-Claude’s establishment. Meanwhile Richard was busy making plans for that bitch Kahlan’s punishment. It was Darken’s design naturally. After all, Darken reached up towards his scarred cheek, he still had the mark from his and Kahlan’s last encounter.


End file.
